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#This world building is kinda all over the place
cluescorner · 3 days
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Arlecchino's whole deal is unbelievable
Arlecchino: Huh I wonder what's causing my weird powers? I can't really worry about that right now tho, I've gotta become King and then kill my "Mother".
*Kills Clervie and "Mother"*
Arlecchino: Huh I wonder why I was able to defeat a Fatui Harbinger when I'm like 17 or so? I can't really worry about that right now tho, I've gotta be in jail and become a Harbinger.
*Is in jail for a while and becomes a Harbinger*
Arlecchino: Huh I wonder why I am-
Pierro: Hey what's up hello, anyways you're descended from the Crimson Moon Dynasty of Khaenri'ah. I'm sure that this is a lot for you to take in so-
Arlecchino: Ok.
Pierro: ...You're just cool with that?
Arlecchino: IDK maybe? I can't really worry about that at the moment, I'm a father now. This orphanage full of children I love (who also are child soldiers and are not allowed to leave or else I'll execute them except maybe now I'm just gonna wipe their memories IDK I'm morally complex) isn't gonna run itself.
*Runs the orphanage/spy recruitment initiative*
Me, the fucking player: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ARE KHAENRI'AN? WHY WASN'T THIS BROUGHT UP IN YOUR FUCKING QUEST?? OR ANYTHING ELSE????
Arlecchino, talking to me through my phone: I honestly don't know why you care, I'm too busy to give a shit. Anyways, I'm gonna go fight fate itself I guess. I'm sure that I don't share any thematic parallels with any other Khaenri'an characters (particularly as it relates to acting and family angst) and that I haven't made the idea of 'curses' on Khaenri'ans and what they entail even more complicated than they already were. See ya.
#arlecchino#genshin impact#pierro#WHY IS THE GAME FUCKING GLOSSING OVER THE FACT THAT SHE IS KHAENRI'AN?!#Not only that but she is the first Khaenri'an we've met (that we know of) who's from the Crimson Moon Dynasty#I'm so fucking confused#Did Celestia place a DIFFERENT curse on members of the Crimson Moon Dynasty?? Or is this stuff all of them can do???#HELP#She also seems almost...uninterested in the fact that she's descended from Khaenri'ah. Which honestly I think is interesting.#I don't know if I like it yet but when every other Khaenri'ah character has one of their major traits being that they super fucking#care that they are Khaenri'an (whether that be Kaeya with his paranoia/destiny/duty or Dain with his guilt over his failure/desire to#prevent our sibling from fucking with anything too much or whatever the fuck is going on with Pierro)#having a character who is Khaenri'an but doesn't seem to particularly be invested in that part of themself is different#she cares more about the curse and its effects on her then she ever really cares about the Crimson Moon Dynasty or the cataclysm#IDK I think it's neat from a character writing angle. or at least it has the potential to be if the writers do a good job.#But from a 'I like maybe 3 things in this game and one of them is Khaenri'ah' perspective it SUCKSSSSS#That part of the plot is already suffering from chronic live-service storytelling disease where people just straight up don't tell you#shit that they logically SHOULD BE TELLING YOU because the game needs to save plot points to build hype around#so for one of like 4-ish (depending on how much we count Albedo) Khaenri'an major characters to give us literally 1 and 1/2 voicelines#kinda sucks ngl. but again it's also interesting and realistic for Arlecchino and from that angle I like it#she doesn't care about what fate says her place in the world is. she's gonna carve her own and being Khaenri'an isn't relevant to#the life and identity she has built for herself. she isn't the type to look for answers she doesn't need. she's practical and efficient.#at the very least it's better than when Albedo 'I want to find all the world's truths' Kreideprinz doesn't let the audience in on his stuff
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syncopatedid · 8 months
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That feeling that you can't even write fan fiction for Link Click until the finale of the 10th season because canon will threaten to unravel every headcanon you wrote by the next episode.
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How do you feel about Jack Drake?? What are your thoughts on him and Tim’s relationship?
Anon, I hope you were interested in a novel, because look, I am fascinated by Jack Drake.  He’s key to a whole lot of what I find compelling about Tim as a character, and if I were in charge of DC, I’d bring him back to life.  This would make Tim unhappy but would IMO make for good plotlines.
Jack and Tim’s relationship is Complicated (TM)...
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Jack and Tim hug in Nightwing 20 / Jack impulsively yanks a TV out of the wall in Robin 45 / Tim grieves in Identity Crisis
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“I could tell the truth.  But I don’t.” - Robin 66
...and it involves a whole lot of Tim lying, and feeling guilty about lying, and thinking about telling the truth, and choosing again and again to keep lying.
And I think that’s great.
Below the cut:
Shorter version - key points about Jack
Really long version - my gentler take (vigilantism is choir and Jack loves sports) vs. my harsher take (Jack has some major flaws)
Final thoughts
Shorter version - key points about Jack:
He’s a bad parent.  He’s self-centered, he consistently prioritizes his own comfort and interests over his son’s, and when upset, he does things like order Tim off to boarding school.
But he’s never a bad parent in an actionable way.  He’s not like David Cain or Arthur Brown, who are abusive monsters.  Jack’s not a monster!  He just...kinda sucks.
He genuinely loves Tim. If Jack’s aware that Tim’s disappeared or is in trouble, he’s always worried and upset.  He periodically resolves to be a better dad, and IMO he’s always sincere.
And Tim loves him, a lot.  Tim’s protective of him and worries about him when he’s kidnapped or in danger, and when they’re reunited, Tim’s really relieved and usually hugs him (and Jack hugs back!). 
...But they have very little in common, and that’s a problem. Jack doesn’t value the things that Tim values, or respect the people that Tim admires, or care about the things that Tim’s interested in.  Tim lies to him a lot, but that’s partly because he correctly guesses Jack wouldn’t respond well if he knew the truth of what Tim’s up to.
The Batfamily is a surrogate family that Tim’s drawn to because of the ways his real family doesn’t meet his emotional needs…but also he feels guilty about that and disloyal. (And to the extent that his dad recognizes what’s going on, he's jealous and resentful!)
Very long version:
(LISTEN I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS)
Okay!  So first: Jack’s a character who IMO is pretty up for interpretation.  You can interpret him very charitably, and make excuses for the bad behavior, and fill in the blanks sympathetically when situations are ambiguous; or you can interpret him uncharitably, and emphasize the bad behavior. I don’t think either approach is invalid - it depends on what kind of story you’re interested in!  I have enjoyed Bad Dad stories and also stories that redeem Jack.
My personal take on canon is that Jack and Tim’s relationship is in a gray area.  Jack's definitely neglectful, and he does prioritize other things over Tim, but he’s never so bad that Tim can easily reject him, and he's never so bad that Bruce could justify taking Tim away.  He's just...not great.  Tim loves him, and feels loyal to him, but it’s a very mixed-up complicated love.
I have a gentler take and a harsher one which I switch between as the spirit moves me. xD
My Gentler Take (tl;dr: vigilantism is choir and Jack loves sports)
Here’s the core conflict: Jack and Tim are very different people with different values.  Tim idolizes Bruce and Dick and vigilantism, and secretly gets involved, knowing his dad will hate it. He gets increasingly wrapped up in his secret world and lies to his dad...because if his dad finds out, he’ll make Tim quit.
This is a great setup for an ongoing comic.  It’s practical, because it provides endless potential for plotlines, and it’s nicely thematic, because it maps closely onto relatable real-life situations with extracurricular activities:
Tim the drama nerd whose dad thinks he’s playing football and not in the school play; 
Tim the closeted-queer kid secretly getting involved in his school’s politically-active Gay-Straight Alliance; 
Tim the choir kid whose dad only values making money and wants him to go into the family business (and Tim keeps promising himself he'll give up choir soon, definitely soon, but maybe he'll stay in just a liiiittle longer, because they need him, you see, the last tenor left town, so...); 
Tim the computer geek with the sports-obsessed dad (this one’s just canon);
etc. etc.  
The extracurricular metaphor works pretty well for Tim’s relationship to vigilantism.  Tim's involved in his "extracurricular" because he genuinely thinks it's important and fulfilling, and he values it and wants to be good at it. He idolizes Bruce and Dick because they're good at it. He's been collecting information about it since he was a little kid, and hiding it from his parents because he knows they wouldn't approve. And mayyyybe there's also an element of low-key rebellion against his dad, and maybe that's secretly part of the appeal. And yet also as Tim gets more and more invested, he starts to daydream: maybe I could tell my dad and he'd be proud of me and supportive. But he doesn't, because actually he knows his dad would be upset and angry and make him quit.
And - again, just like with lonely kids and extracurricular hobbies - one of the things that happens is that Tim starts getting his unfilled emotional needs met ... by people he knows through this secret hobby. And people like Bruce and Dick start turning into a surrogate family. Which Tim feels guilty about. And also as Tim gets more and more wrapped up in their world, he has to lie to his dad even more, which means the distance between Tim and his dad gets bigger and bigger and more and more unfixable.
I love this dilemma. It's simple, it's recognizable, it provides endless sources for conflict, and there's no obvious solution! Tim can't tell Jack: he'll make Tim quit! And Tim doesn't want to quit, because he loves choir / art / theater / whatever.  Yeah, it’s difficult, and there are challenges, and sometimes he has doubts...but at the end of the day, he cares about it a lot.  And everything he values is there, and all the people he admires and cares about are there, and all he wants in the world is to feel like he's one of them and belongs there. So he has to lie, even though he doesn't want to lie, and he feels guilty about it...
...but also he ends up lying more and more.
(Sidenote: I think it's important that Tim chooses to keep lying - Tim's narration often glosses this as "I have to lie to my dad," and that's certainly how it feels to Tim, but this... isn't quite true. He has to lie to his dad, because if he doesn't, his dad will get mad at him and try to stop him, not because he literally has no choice about it.)
Other Reasons Why I Like The "Secret Extracurricular" Interpretation
(tl;dr it complicates not just Tim's relationship with his dad, but also all his other relationships)
Tim's problems have some obvious parallels to Steph and Cass, who both become vigilantes while rejecting their evil supervillain dads. But Jack isn't evil. And that means the Tim-and-Jack relationship is ambiguous and complicated in ways that I like. Steph and Cass can just leave their Bad Dads in prison, and say good riddance, and feel very righteous and triumphant about it! Tim’s more complicated. Tim gets into vigilantism ostensibly out of duty and altruism, but secretly, he's also involved for straight-up selfish self-fulfillment reasons. He's lonely, and bored, and his life feels pointless, but he thinks that Bruce and Dick are cool and amazing and he wants to be a part of the things that they do.  When his dad gets jealous of Tim’s relationship to Bruce, and feels like Tim’s looking for a surrogate family, he’s... not wrong.
And the ways in which Jack is not Actionably Bad complicate things from Bruce's POV.  If Jack was a straight-up villain, it’d be an easy call to keep in touch when Jack finds out and makes Tim quit...but he’s not a villain, not really.  So what do you do?  Do you try to surreptitiously stay in touch with Tim even though you’re ignoring his dad’s express wishes and thus forcing Tim to sneak around?  Do you respect his dad’s wishes and stay away from Tim even though you have a years-long relationship at this point?  
Again: a bit similar to the extracurricular analogy.  Say you’re the choir director and you’ve built this whole relationship with a kid in the choir, and you’re an important mentor to him and you care about him etc. etc. etc.... and then right before a big performance, his dad finds out he’s been secretly involved, and yanks him out.  How would you react?  Well, maybe kind of in some of the ways Bruce reacts.  You replace him. You’re annoyed with him. You miss him. You want him to come back. You’re also worried about him.  You’re upset with his dad.  But also... what should you do, exactly?
Bruce and Alfred and Dick care about Tim as if he were part of their family, but he’s not part of their family, and there’s a lot of interesting tension there.
My Harsher Take
Jack never hits his son.  But his temper is a big deal.
In his worst moments, he takes out his anger on Tim’s stuff - wrecking his room, or ripping his TV out of the wall and confiscating it.  When he’s worried about Tim, he usually expresses that fear by yelling at him / punishing him / sending him away - threatening to send him to boarding school in Metropolis in Robin III, or threatening to send him to military school abroad in Robin 92, or actually forcing him to go to an all-boys' boarding school post-NML.  
This is bad behavior!  It is Not Good!  
And you can easily connect the dots to a bunch of Tim’s terrible coping mechanisms, like the constant lying and or the fact that Tim’s go-to methods for dealing with interpersonal conflict are 1) repress it and pretend it never happened (most of his fights with Bruce), 2) withdraw from the relationship until he can pretend the conflict doesn’t exist (when his friends get mad at him in YJ, he quits the team for a while), or 3) literally run away from home.
Also, Jack is a Manly Man with firm opinions about how men behave vs. how women behave, and he thinks boys shouldn’t be scared and thinks Tim should date hot girls and pushes Tim to work out and wants him to play football and expresses period-typical sexism, etc. etc. etc. ... and though obviously this wasn’t what the writers had in mind at the time, all of that is certainly interesting to read backwards in the light of Tim as a queer character.
More Disorganized Thoughts on Jack Drake
Tim’s our hero, so we’re naturally more sympathetic to him, but it’s also true that relationships are a two-way street, and Tim doesn’t value any of the things his dad values, either.  Jack at various points is shown to care about grades, business, money, boarding schools, archeology, football, a kind of macho bragging-about-dating-hot-women ethos, and a very public and performative kind of caring. Tim tends to respond with discomfort or disinterest or even disgust.  When Jack gets on TV to try to rally the government to save his son from No Man’s Land, Tim isn’t touched—he’s mortified.  When Jack makes some bad investments and loses money, Jack’s deeply upset and his self-image is majorly impacted, and far from being sympathetic, Tim’s annoyed and kind of contemptuous of the idea that this is a problem.  Jack thinks fishing in the early morning and going to tennis matches is a fun father-son activity; Tim finds it exhausting and tedious.  And so on.
This means that Tim often longs to be closer to his dad in theory, but this longing is more tied to fantasy than to reality. He rarely seems to enjoy spending time with His-Dad-The-Actual-Person.  So for example, when Tim’s deadly ill with the Clench, he has an extremely poignant fever dream about telling his dad the truth and getting hugged…even as he insists in real-life to Alfred and Dick that he does not want them to tell his dad what’s going on.
The same is true of Jack, who IMO genuinely wants to be closer to his son and is continually declaring that he’s going to turn over a new leaf and get closer to his son…and just as continually backs out of activities or loses his temper when faced with spending time with his actual son.
Tim and his dad sadly get along best—by far—in Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder situations.  When Jack gets kidnapped or is in danger, Tim worries for him (and Tim grieves him deeply when he dies).  When Tim disappears or runs away, Jack’s genuinely worried about him.  So e.g. they have a really moving emotional reunion and hug when the earthquake hits Gotham, and Tim panics about his dad’s safety and comes running home (and meanwhile Jack’s been panicked about Tim’s safety!).  It’s the day-to-day, regular life stuff where they don’t connect.
Jack's written quite differently by different writers. Mostly, Tim's parents are at their least likable in his early appearances and early miniseries (this is where you get, for example, Jack and Janet being nasty at each other while a pained employee looks on, and Tim disappointed to once again get news of where his parents are via postcard - "I guess that sums them up! Never know where they’re going to be–or when–or even how long!” - and Tim alone on school break, and Bruce and Alfred thinking there's something weird going on with Tim's parents, etc. etc.). Jack's more sympathetic but still often unlikable in most of Tim's Robin solo, and he's almost invisible (but positively treated if he does show up) in Tim's team books.
For obvious reasons, Jack's remembered way more sympathetically after his death. Tim's completely devastated by Jack's murder, which he arrives moments too late to prevent, and he basically never gets over it. We see him grieving Jack again and again in Robin, and also in Teen Titans, and also in Resurrection, and again in the Halloween Special, and again in Batman: Blackest Night, and all the way up to the end of Red Robin. Tim also grieves for an extended time over Janet - he hallucinates a happy reunion with her when he's feverish in Contagion, and hallucinates her in the final issue of Robin, and the reveal-your-buried-emotions song in Robin 102 brings up his grief for her too (meanwhile, other characters dance or laugh or otherwise get giddy).  Tim’s grief over his parents’ deaths is intense and long-lasting.
I'm not going to clip comic panels because this is long enough, but if you're curious, here's a nice and fairly lengthy compilation of comic panels with Tim and Jack.
If you're interested in a Jack-centric story with a softer-but-still-recognizably-canon take on Jack, I really like the way Jack’s narration is written in the one-shots Heart Humble (set shortly before Jack dies) and Never a Hero (Ra's resurrects him during Brucequest, and Jack's archeology skills turn out to be unexpectedly useful).
#tim drake#jack drake#ask tag#i wrote this ages ago and now i can't remember what i was going to add to it so oh well draft amnesty? sorry for the long wait anon!! <333#anyway i kept this carefully on topic and virtuously did not derail into talking about the other blorbo but tags are for disorganization SO#for me this kinda half-in half-out place where tim is with the batfamily is SUCH an interesting part of his relationship with dick#and i never stop turning it over in my head#he's kiiiinda replaced dick in that he's robin - but in a very real way he *hasn't* - he's NOT bruce's new son the way jason was#and early!tim makes a BIG POINT of how bruce is not his dad#and i think this relative distance from bruce is a huge factor in why dick is able to build a close relationship with tim at all#(because dick's still pretty estranged from bruce!)#and there's such interesting tension there when dick starts jokingly calling tim ''little brother'' or when villains call them brothers#because they're NOT. increasingly they would both LIKE to be brothers! but dick has zero official standing in tim's life#if tim got hit by a car in his civilian identity bruce and dick wouldn't even be able to visit him without his dad's permission#which jack would be pretty unlikely to give! jack doesn't like or trust bruce!#or like. this is morbid. but if tim died. dick wouldn't even be invited to the funeral you know?#and there's such interesting tension there for me in the contrast between this vigilante relationship that's very very close#but in their civilian lives no one would assume they're anything in particular to each other#anyway the 1st half of tim's robin solo has this thread of tension between tim's family life vs. his vigilante life (plus his mom's death)#and then the second half + red robin has the thread of struggling with grief in a world that's not fair + feeling lost/alone#and these two threads are a big part of my interest in tim as a character! jack's the backdrop that makes a lot of stories possible
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junotter · 1 month
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sometimes researching for avatar redesigns has you 6 layers deep into the Japan's Meiji era allies wiki
#im trying to mess with some of the stuff that feels weird about the ways the fire nation is depicted idk#like i do not feel optically it is good for like them to be so heavily based on japan's imperialist actions#while dressed in clothes that come from places japan colonized#but i dont want it to just be solely japanese though i did draw zuko and azula in hakama but its largely cause i wanted to draw hakama#and like the only place with strong japanese influence being kiyoshi island and my own frustration with the modern day samurai depiction#i think fundamentally it isnt a choice that had as much thought as i am putting in put into it but it does raise an eyebrow for me#anyway i think keeping the thai influence is fine despite the brief invasion japan had into thailand due to thailand then allying with japa#and further allying with the axis due to allying with japan#ugh and ive been told not to think this much about it because its fiction but its also fiction so so so heavily based on real places#and when you base fiction on real cultures you fall into some unintentional pitfalls#i also fucking hate the royal fire nation robes they look so meh and the most costumey out of everything in the show#they look like heavy blankets despite being a supposedly hot nation#theres ways to have heavy robes (heian era japan) but they look like i make them out of fleece and velvet blankets#back to kiyoshi island i think the really only aesthetically japanese reference in the show being an island of noble warriors is lame#plus over done#it feels like nowadays theres a lot of people who get all whiney about people saying fire nation is based off japan#but like dude the creators in the comics and korra like go even more into the japanese influence and clearly it was the original intentions#also i do think you could do some pretty interesting world building by having say there be an older cultural influence on kiyoshi island#from the fire nation especially if the place is established as a central port area then you tie in some okinawan or even hawaiian reference#and gives an explanation that makes sense to why kiyoshi stands out from the rest of the earth kingdom you have long term cultural trading#and it establishes interesting relationships even pre kiyoshi time thereby drawing back onto some real historic references#cause for awhile ryukyu china and japan used to be this trading triangle which could explain some of these various influences going on#i think you can get a really interesting harmony when you create the fire nation out of a mix of japan and thailand#i mean both have these floating buildings due to living on some pretty wet lands and theres harmony in that mix#god i did see one person go like “fire nation is more based on china because theres a lot of red and red is important in china”#my brother in christ red is also important in japan#red is important in like many many asian cultures#i mean of course a lot of that importance stems from china and cultural exchange with china but idk kinda silly to say with your whole ches#like if you want to bring china in then the dragons are the biggest thing like sure some mythos has dragons in japan#but a lot of those comes from china in some way
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wereh0gz · 1 year
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Holy fuck
#ramblings#sonic prime spoilers#i just watched all of sonic prime that's out so far and just. holy fuck#i like how it's all over the place but like not at the same time#like there's a formula here. it's just a lot for me to keep track of#also. now i know shadow didn't just attack sonic for no reason#he had a reason and basically that reason was he thought sonic was gonna do something stupid#also now we know why they didn't show the last world with the fourth shard#because it's empty. it's fucking empty#idk what they're gonna do with it? tails said stuff about that being a blank slate where they can build a good future or whatever#but i don't think that's what's gonna happen#also. how are they gonna fix things?#when rusty rose saw black rose they had a weird reaction#so is bringing all the alternate versions of the characters together gonna fix everything?#hm#also also. i don't dislike how shadow's being written so far! surprisingly!#like yeah he's angry and fighting sonic but he has a reason for it#i mean. sonic kinda poofed his original world out of existance basically#i'd be pretty mad too if that happened#and the animations is consistently pretty good! there's only a few bits that i feel are kinda awkward and could use a little more polish#and the designs are pretty great#the voice acting is really good too. deven mack is killing it as sonic and shadow's voice is just. so good#can't wait to see what comes next#anyway i should probably do my school work. i have a bit to catch up on
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moonlesslights · 11 months
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Miguel O’hara in Love
Headcanons.
━━━━━━ ✿ 🕷️ ❀ ━━━━━
A/N: I was really looking forward to write this, because I just can’t get this whole idea out of my head.
Warnings: Basically none, a little bit of angst maybe?, some smut references and depictions. Miguel being Miguel. Kinda obsessive (?)
This text is based in that frase of Joe Goldberg: “There’s not a line, in the world, that I wouldn’t cross for you”. So be prepared.
Enjoy, my loves. Every comment or request is welcomed! 🤍
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Miguel was curious of you from the very moment he met you. Such a unique presence among all the others.
You had been bitten just a month ago. And it was hard for you. He saw you struggle, falling over and over again, training till exhaustion, fighting to be on the level of the others.
And the worst part of it all, was the guilt coming to attack him with every side eye Jessica gave to him. “If you weren’t going to help her, you should have let her alone.” The woman had whispered while both of them looked at you fighting to climb another building. Miguel knew she was right. He was the one who insisted in bringing you immediately after they found you (only a couple of days after the bite), even when Jessica insisted to give you time for you to figure it out alone. Miguel wasn’t having it, and now… “She’s been at it for the whole morning.” The woman pursed her lips, shaking her head.
What Jessica didn’t quite know was that Miguel hadn’t left you alone all this time… He wasn’t good at talking, that was true. He wasn’t good at showing his support with words, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.
You let out a pained groan when you finally plop on the concrete of the building’s rooftop. Every single muscle of your body aches and you can fell your heart pounding harshly against your ribcage, making it feel like every breath that makes it to your lungs it’s just a mere miracle.
The weight of the presence of someone standing beside you forces you to blink out of your thoughts. Tiredly, you look up, finding Miguel's mask glaring back at you with a deep frown you can make out of the way his eyes curve.
He holds a white little package on his right and he hands it to you before finally sitting down without making a single sound. It had all started like a little game between the two of you: You pretend you don’t see his figure hovering above a building while you train, or his silhouette watching you getting back to The Society place safely. You also pretend you don’t know it’s him who leaves bandages and painkillers over your bed every day with a little chocolate next to it. And he pretends he doesn’t know that you know.
You cross your legs and smile when you open the small box on your hands, smelling the sweet scent of warm and fresh food. You also take notice of how he changed one of the things he brought you last time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you were sure now he definitely noticed you didn’t like it.
“Eat.” He orders and you are too tired to remark his tone of voice with a roll of your eyes. So you nod, bringing a big spoonful of pasta and vegetables to your mouth, thanking him with a big smile. Smile he doesn’t return. He never does anyway. But now it’s not like always. He’s pissed. “When was the last time you ate?”
You look straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. You swallow, slowly, feeling his eyes burning on the side of your head.
“Mhm… Not long ago, no.” You answer, mumbling while you get more food into your mouth. Miguel raises an eyebrow.
“Training this much without any nutriments won’t do anything good for you…”
“Training this much won’t do anything anyway.” You sigh, keeping then the fork between your lips. Miguel wishes to say something but he can’t find the words, he can’t order his thoughts inside his head to place them on his tongue and tell you just how much you have improved since the first day, so he gladly receives your bright eyes turning to him when you seem to remember: “But I finally climbed this building, see? Without using any web, only my spider fingers.”
The man nods at you waving playfully at him. The determination in your eyes even when your whole body wanted to give up, even when you know you’re still not close to go on a mission by yourself (or with anyone else), even when you probably couldn’t even sleep fine because of the sore bruises, the determination in your eyes didn’t flatter.
That made him feel something deep is his hands, a tingle he couldn’t control. And he hated it.
“Tomorrow at seven.” He sentences, standing on his feet again.
You frown, raising big eyes at him. The brightness in them when the weight of his words hit you destabilizes him.
“For real?”
“Yes.” He looks away. “If I don’t train you you’re not getting anywhere.”
His comment goes unnoticed for the excitement running all along your body.
“Ok.” You nod, trying to look professional but failing miserably.
He grunts in response, soon jumping off of the building and losing among all of the city chaos. In some minutes he would be back at the Society lobby. You… An hour. Give or take.
Training with Miguel was nothing but… Hell.
No, it actually wasn’t. You expected you could say that to make people thing you were having it hard, but he insisted on starting with the basics… basics that you already felt like being good at.
Still, climbing had become easier within the first week of training with him. The tips and advices he insisted you to follow helped you thinking of it more like a game than a must do.
Swinging was still a tricky one. You used to lose your balance when the demanded velocity was too much. Panic rushed over you, feeling like you would crash against a window or a fucking person, or another spider doing their own training.
“Trust your senses.” Miguel said to you every time you fell, and every time you death glared at him for that. He didn’t have one of the most important senses for spider people and he still managed to be better than anyone you could have known. You had them all, and they all seemed to be a mess when you tried to use them.
Soon enough, Miguel learned about a way to motivate you: Rewards. Most of the time was food, some others, the promise of letting you rest for more that five minutes was enough. For a week now, it had been a little bit different.
History. You loved it. And you changed any delicious and tasty food for hours listening to Miguel explaining everything about the multiverse and the tangled webs between all of you. He had told you about his first travels to other Earths at least three times, but you couldn’t seem to get tired.
You might not tell him how much his voice soothes you after a long day out, but it wasn’t necessary, he could see it. On the other hand, he definitely would never tell you how he glanced at you, completely asleep after another history session, memorizing every breath, every mole and freckle, counting every single one of your eyelashes like the stars on the sky above you.
No. You would never find out about that.
Today was supposed to be just like any other day: quiet, calm and premeditated. Nothing out of the routine you and Miguel had adopted for the past four weeks.
But with you, things were never that easy. Boredom was a dangerous thing for you, Miguel had learned it by now. The hard way. If something became not enough exciting for your restless self, you would look for that spark of adrenaline at any cost. It was part of your determination. Heart of a lion. He knew that. But it didn’t change the fact he would have to save you from breaking a few bones every once in a while.
“I’m sorry” You would say after he dropped you on the safe floor again. He would turn to look at you, fire running up his veins. Every time he wanted to yell at you, to snap and tell you it was the last time you do something like that. And every time he would sigh, pressing both finger on the bridge of his nose, finally grunting in a low voice:
“Desobedeciste deliberadamente.” A month was enough for you to know exactly what those words meant.
“I know.”
“You could have hurt yourself.”
“I know…” Then the bright eyes. Always the bright eyes. “But I have to try, I can’t depend on you forever. Getting hurt it’s just part of the way.”
He hated you were right. He lost count of how many broken ribs he got on his first years, of how many scars he still hides under his suit. Eventually, you would have to learn to stand up even if you’re bleeding. Even if you’re dying.
He is not mad at you for disobeying, that’s bullshit. He admired that of you, actually. You don’t act by fear, you do not fear him. You follow your heart even when you know you could get in trouble for it. No, he’s mad because every time he catches you before you hit the ground, all he can think about is that there’s going to be a moment where he won’t be there to do it. And the sound of your body crashing against the concrete, of your pain, would follow him till the darkest moments of the night, where he curses the day you’ll scream his name and he will be too far away to hear it.
“I want to change my reward for today.” You smile at him, both of your hands behind your back, making him suspicious of your teasing voice.
“You’re not going anywhere with Hobie.” He responds in a neutral voice, starting to walk in front of you.
You roll your eyes, shaking your head before getting in front of him and starting to walk backwards so you could keep facing him.
“It’s not that.” You insist. He doesn’t answer and you know that’s his way of telling you to go on. You sigh. “I want to see you without your mask.”
That makes him stop dead on his tracks. He tilts his head, questioning you with curious eyes. That’s all you wanted? No, you wanted that? Why?
Were you really that bored?
“I feel like everyone here has seen you at least one time, except for me. And it’s not fair.” You got a point on that. He spends most of his time training you, you share almost every meal together, he’s the last person you usually talk everyday because you’re too tired to do anything other than going to your room and sleep. You have spent entire days with him, you have cried and made a mess of yourself in front of his presence, and you didn’t even know his face.
You can deny the sting of irritation you get every time Hobie or Gwen, or any other come talking about what they said during the meeting before a mission, meetings where, you had learnt, Miguel used to take off his mask. Peter told you it wasn’t that big of a deal. You wanted to punch him.
“If that’s what you want.” Miguel crosses his arms, tilting his head at you. “Now go tra-…”
You were gone before he could even finish his sentence. He sees your figure going around the building he chose for this particular session. Your swinging had gotten better over the last weeks and the confidence you had in yourself had also been improving, showing your true strength for him to see.
Jessica insisted on you being ready to train at the top levels with the others inside The Society training center, or at least to try. But Miguel profusely refused. He had designed many of the levels to train there, he knew the damage they could cause to someone not prepared to face them.
He blame it on his sense of responsibility over you the fact that he denied any attempt to put you on an unnecessary risk, but deep down, he knew that from the moment he stepped in front of you while you cried for that death he knew all too well now, and then observed how you wiped your tears and showed him your fists, ready to fight him despite everything… He was fucked.
You were the little thing he decided to protect even if it costed his life. The little thing that trusted his claws to hold at her, that puts its life on the line without a second thought. It is not his fault to have never experienced anything like this, to don’t know what to do, to act like a fool, to refuse to lose it… How they cannot understand?
“Done.” You jump in front of him, getting him out of his thoughts.
He looks up, seeing all of the targets on the building covered by a good layer of web. Your precision could be better, but you’re getting at it.
He sighs. He turns to face you completely before ordering his nanotechnology to uncover his face. Dark wavy hair falls onto his temples, brown skin glimmers under the heavy sun above you, full lips press against each other and two cold brown eyes glare down at you.
When you don’t say anything, he raises an eyebrow at you.
“Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?”
You nod without waiting for another question.
“I just wanted to see your eyes.” You answer confident, smiling softly at him.
It is enough to say he never wore his mask on around you ever again.
Miguel O'Hara isn’t good in what emotion management respects.
He knows it, but he doesn’t have the time or care to try to do something about it.
It wasn’t that big of a deal…
Yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal until one specially busy morning where he couldn’t make it to your first training, he went on looking for you… And he couldn’t find you.
He went to your room, your favorite places; he went looking all around the city, praying to find you just jumping above some buildings. But you were nowhere to be found. And it wasn’t until one Peter took mercy on him that pointed the worst place to be pointed: The training center.
With his heart going a thousand miles per hour, he started to look for you inside the complex. And when he caught a glimpse of Jessica looking up with a proud smile, he knew exactly where you were.
“She’s doing even better than I could’ve imagined. You’re a great mentor, Miguel.”
“Why is she here?” He answered immediately. Jess raised an eyebrow at him, confused by the uneasiness on his voice.
“Does that really matter? Look at her, Miguel!” She pointed at you with her extended hand. “Aren’t you proud of her?”
Of course he was. But what he couldn’t stand was someone else messing and taking choices over the one and only thing he has. So instead of answering her question, he sentenced: “Don’t ever get close to her again.”
“Miguel…”
“You can mess around with any other, but there is a fucking line, Jess. You chose yours, and I respect them. Don’t mess with mine.”
When he finally appeared in front of you, you smiled brightly at him. He looked like any other day, completely unfazed and with a calmed expression you were so used to see by now.
“Time to call it a day, don’t you think?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You were sweating, you arms were trembling and you could barely control your breath by now, and still… You shook your head.
“I want to try this level one last time.” He was ready to talk you out of it but your pleading eyes made him look down at Jess, who, with a single movement, made him understand what she was talking about.
“Fine, but I’ll be with you every step of the way, got it?” His frustration made you giggle when you nodded.
You didn’t make it till the end of the level, but you tried, and that was all that mattered to you. To Miguel, having been able to take you to the wall before you crashed against a crystal under you was the main thing that mattered.
It had been a whole experience, but it remained like that. Enough time at least for him to push his way of react behind him. Until something made it snap again.
His eyes fly to all of the cameras in front of him, fixing his pupils in whatever screen he could catch a glimpse of your suit.
The threat they were expecting for your first mission ended up being a lot more aggressive and capable than hoped. You and your partner had already received a few good hits by the time Miguel reached for the Call button.
“How are you?” Is the first thing you hear when you press ‘answer’.
“Never better.” You reply, smiling at the interface of your pretty boss clenching his jaw.
“Need help?”
You immediately shake your head. “Not at all, we’re managing just fine.” Your figure distorts while you swing around. Heavy steps following you up close. “I gotta go, Miguel. See you back at home.”
“No, wai-…” He widens his eyes, trying to reach you before you end the call. His fists tighten and his eyes close, fighting to keep himself calm.
But our man can’t catch a break, because as soon as his breath starts to get back to its normal speed, a camera showing on one of the screens burst out with a big clatter, forcing his eyes open only to see his worst fear take form in front of him.
You were struggling against the anomaly, kicking your feet in the air and trying desperately to get his hands off your neck. Your partner was nowhere to be seen. You appear to lose you patience when you stop fighting and instead shoot webs to the creature’s eyes. The anomaly maddens, and throws you against the next building on the street.
Miguel's eyes follow your body across two cameras, watching in horror the blood dripping from your mouth when you cough after the blow, struggling to get on your feet again.
His hands move quicker than he can process, bringing all the information about the Earth you were on for him to see.
“Miguel.” Jessica calls from behind.
“Where the hell did you send her?” He whispers, reading the screen displayed. “I told you she wasn’t ready to go.”
“Miguel, look.” She insists, this time with a more demanding voice.
But the man can’t think of anything else more than you bleeding. Alone and injured.
“You said it was an easy one.” He growls in a low and dangerous voice.
“I’m…”
“I told you she wasn’t ready!” He snaps, looking back at her. His fangs pinch on his lower lip, so hard he can feel a drop of scarlet liquid running down his chin.
And it’s not until Jess takes a step back and Lyla calls his name that he realizes the way his claws had ripped the metal in front of him.
And then… A call.
He blinks out of his trance, looking up at the screen with your name on it. He hits ‘answer’ and your dirty suit and scratched face make an appearance.
His red eyes relax at the sight, returning to those soft brown irises and dark pleased pupils reserved only for you. He hides his fangs and his claws are no longer nowhere to see. Just you. It was just you again. And you were okay.
“Miguel, look!” You smile at him, pointing the camera on your watch for him to see your partner finishing to tie up the anomaly. “We got it!”
“Yeah, yeah, I see.” He can’t help but let out a small glimpse of a smile over his lips, nodding at your excitement.
“Oh, you’re smiling. Wait for me to come back, I wanna see it in person.” And just like that, his smile is gone.
“Don’t take any longer. Both of you, come back as soon as possible.”
And with that, the call is ended once again, leaving him in a room with heavy air and thick silence. He jumps off of the platform, still glaring at Jessica in silence.
“You know that wasn’t right.” She whispers. “The way you’re acting it isn’t right, Miguel.”
He shakes his head, slowing his movements until he remains still just a few feet away from the entrance.
“You don’t know what it’s like.” He murmurs.
“Oh, now I don’t know?!” She opens her mouth with indignation, but Miguel doesn’t alter.
“It’s not like that and you know it.” He hisses. “I have lost everything in this world. I am utterly alone. And even between us, there a strings that doesn’t tangle. You have a husband and a soon to come baby, a family that awaits for you at home, but what do I have, Jess?”
The woman, for the first time, remains silent.
“I have her. I only have her.” He says. “Not a single thing in this world belongs to me but her. Everything else have been taken away from me, everything I once had has disappeared: my job, my life, my normal life. If she’s ripped from my hands, I have nothing left. And I cannot keep fighting for a life I don’t want to live. This is not only for her, Jess. If I lose her, I will tear the universe apart with my own hands.”
A single shiver ran down her spine, watching Miguel exiting the complex to find you arriving almost at the same moment.
She watched how his threat takes meaning when you wrap your arms around him and his eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh.
She knows that if they ever were to lose that light, the whole multiverse would dim with them.
Miguel wanted to own you.
He wasn’t good at hiding it.
His hands would come to your hips, grabbing your tights or caressing your waist under your clothes.
Your scent would drive him into his animalistic side at every given moment. Until the point he would have to step meters away from you during the meetings in order to keep himself from the smell of your hair and your soft skin.
But when he didn’t keep himself from you, he would come from behind you, embracing you with his whole body. His face would bury in the curve of your neck, sending shivers with his tongue coming out, tracing a single line till reaching your ear, where he would whisper what he wants, where he would ask you to let him touch you.
When you say yes, he would drop his head and sink your fingers on your tender skin, pressing his hips against your body when you throw your head back, allowing him to do as he wished so with you, to mark you as his as many times as he wanted.
“Miguel…” You sigh this time, feeling his hands clinging at your suit, desperate to touch your skin instead.
He had just returned from a mission that had kept him away from you three days. You had imagined he would’ve returned tired and ready to sleep for fifteen hours, but instead he took you straight into his bedroom and pushed you against the wall, where he now holds you still with both of his arms.
“Take it off.” He whispers, tugging again at your suit. He was being nice this time, and you thank him internally for that. You don’t have the strength to ask Lyla for another suit.
You complain with a happy humming, letting your body fully exposed before him except for your panties still covering your ass and pussy.
The man switches off his own suit, letting you see up close the tent under his boxers. His fingers grasp at your thighs, forcing your legs open for him. Two of his digits run along your folds over your panties for around ten seconds before he decides to tore away your undergarment and place his hand back at your sex.
You would have complained about his behavior but his fingers pressing down on your clit rip only a moan out of your throat. He plays with your sensitive bundle until you’re wet and seconds away from an orgasm he pretends to steal away when he stops his movements.
“No, please…” You cry out, your legs threatening to give up.
“Shhh, patience, mi amor, I’m not done yet.” With one hand he pushes you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his neck for support before he starts eating you out like a starved man.
You tighten your tights around his head, almost screaming at your over sensitive pussy being stimulated even more, with his tongue pushing in and out for a while until he takes it to your clit again, sucking in, ripping another hard cry out of you. You are so close. And when he finally joins in two of his fingers to curve inside of you, it’s your end.
You scream his name, clenching around his digits, making him growl enough to feel the vibration running down your skin. He guides you through all of it until you finally seem to catch your breath again.
But then, he takes out his fingers and drops his boxes to the floor. His dick throbbed painfully, making him hiss when he stroke it a few times before pressing against you, chest to chest, and bottoming out all the way with a single thrust.
“Fuck, Miguel!” You throw your head back as he does the contrary, sinking his fangs into your skin, trying not to lose control.
“May I move?” He asks, breathing heavily on your skin.
You nod.
“Yes, yes, please move.” He groan in pleasure at your words, starting to move your hips in and down to match the rhythm of his.
You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning sweetly against his ear while he pick up the pace. Soon enough, only the sound of skin slapping on skin could be heard around you, with nothing but your moans and gasps indicating him where he had to thrust, and his deep growls showing you how close he was.
“Cum for me.” He says, pushing your back back to the wall with his hand around your neck, squeezing you under his fingers. “I wanna see you cum.” He demands, making of his pace nothing but a mess of thrusts.
He was so close, he just needed…
“Miguel!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out desperate whimpers when your legs tremble around him and your walls clench around his cock, sending him so high he has to bite you again to avoid a throaty moan escape from him.
You could barely begin to feel your toes again when you feel him tightening his grip around you before walking out to the bed.
He was ready for the next round.
Thank you so much for coming all this way!
PD: I know Miguel fangs have paralyzing venom but let’s just pretend he can choose when to use it and when don’t.
This might not be good but I had the idea of this thread of story and I just wanted to write it.
I hope you have at least enjoyed some of it.
Love y’all. Sending a lot of love. See ya. <3
PD2: I’m trying to work now on a Sub!Miguel thing. It may be still a couple of days from it, but I want to be good. And I haven’t decided if it would be just porn or porn with plot. So let me know!
PD3: I’ll be doing cleaning and correction between today and tomorrow.
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evilminji · 1 month
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You know what idea has always ENCHANTED ME?
Ever since I saw it on a sci-fi show?
The Deadly Magical House That Loves You™. See, it's a house that has become something MORE. Gained sentience. And? Instead of acting out some cheap horror movie jump scares? It digs deep to its foundations, thinks long n hard, and decides on what it WANTS.
And it WANTS?
To be a HOME™.
To TAKE CARE OF somebody. Have LIFE in its halls. Meals at its tables. Joy and laughter bouncing across its walls. So? It lays a trap. Lures people in.
Come live in me~
I am a good home.
I am Free! I am "Safe". I will give you whatever your heart desires.
I care not for morality or laws. Boundaries or taboos. Do you desire? Come, come, be HAPPY~! Live in me! Relax here! Forget about the world beyond these walls. Anything I can not give you, I can bring TOO you! This is a Happy Home.
But, of course, such sentience and pushiness terrifies. People run and flee in horror. The house getting more aggressive. Trying to hold tighter. After all! If they would just STAY for a while, they would SEE! It's so LOVELY here! The would LOVE to live inside them!
But... instead?
They are hurt.
Doors smashed open. Windows broken to escape. Furniture thrown. Their avatar, Jeeves, bashed with heavy things. Why... WHY?! They are only trying to HELP! To LOVE them! Be a good HOME! They grow more and more run down. Starved. Wrathful.
It is, of course, their Obsession. To be a home. They are so very hungry.
When? Who should come along?
But the depressed AF Ghost King! He's been... not TECHNICALLY kicked out. But "things are tense" kicked out. He's tired. His college courses are remote. He can't really AFFORD rent. And everything is just...
He's TIRED.
He wants to cry.
Why... why can't he have ONE good thing? ONE sign everything's gonna be alright?
"Free House!"
Well... I mean... that IS a literal sign. Huh. He flies down. The house notices him. Tries to look as enticing as it can. And? Gasp! I... It's WORKING? This one seems INTERESTED? Quick! Flowerbeds! Look at my flowerbeds! Ooooh, lovely floooowers! A.. and there's probably really nice wood flooring! C'mon. C'moooon!
Danny? Sees a free Lair. Not too far from both Gotham AND Metropolis. Good location. Needs a little fixing up. But I mean... you can't beat free, right?
Is he really gonna do this?
......fuck it. Yeah, let's do this. First house time. He's just glad he carries a sharpie on him most of the time. Scribbles "Sold!" Over the sign then calls Jazz. He's... kinda not sure WHAT he's supposed to pack?
Finds out, post move in, whoop. Sentient Lair. Clingy, clingy, highly desperate sentient Lair. Oof. Guess fixing up the place can be therapy for both of us. Jazz helps.
The house heals. He falls into a routine. Schoolwork, hang out in the garden or the observatory, meals FaceTiming friends or watching videos, naps whenever he wants them. It's... it's so peaceful. Quiet and soothing to his agitated and worn down soul. Like a balm.
House gets him whatever he needs. They're kinda awesome like that. Always seems to have room to fit this or that. He doesn't question it. His brain figuring it works on Zone logic.
He probably SHOULD have.
Because? Things have been going missing. At a slow, steady, pace. Food, technology, entertainment. A building that shouldn't BE there, has been spotted in a wealthy county just outside of Superman and Batman's two cities.
No one can get near it.
It's been getting BIGGER.
Growing, like a tumor, room by room. Floor by floor. The gardens creeping like kudzu, to swallow everything in their path. Yet delivery drivers drop things off. Things they don't remember. On trips they don't recall. People are scared.
Amateur detectives have managed to discover some sort of starlit fae that lives there, along with a human boy.
Justice League Dark has been called in. Are currently standing just outside the slowly creeping property line. A garden statue just hissed at them. The trees are trying to throw acorns. A hushed argument has already broken out. How do they contain the house?
@the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @hypewinter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @lolottes
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wonryllis · 3 months
Text
𝜗𝜚 'OH' I LOVE LOVE HER?
╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗎𝗇.
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𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen realizing it's you 𖥔 ݁ rom-fluff, kinda poetic? LIB? fem!reader requested word count ` 1945
꒰˵ˊᯅˋ˵꒱ love how this turned out!! <3. unedited!
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 he doesn't know much about love, he's never really experienced it yet. he has fallen for conventional and unconventional things, things that compliment and things that complete, he's been through the good phases and stuck through bad ones, he held on to things he shouldn't and let go of things he should. there are a lot of lessons he has learned along every relationship he has been in the lines of yet lee heeseung doesn't believe he's ever been in love until he has been with you. it wasn't something he knew he felt, but it was surely something he realized in the spur of a moment, in a split second of epiphany. he knew what he felt for you was something deep when he realized that yes he wouldn't hesitate to die for you, but what he wants is to live for you. it's easy to be the first to go but to hold your strength through everything and survive for someone, that is definitely love is what heeseung believes.
"baby, baby calm down i'm okay," he reassures your crying and frantic figure as you scan his injuries, ones he got from trying to protect you from a fatal fall. perhaps it was the situation or perhaps it was realisation of it all. when he jumped to saved you all he could think about was he'd give his life if it meant you lived, but in this moment he cannot bear to see you so devastated, to think he could've left you like this? no, he's decided he is never going to do it until he can't help it and even then he'd fight to stay with his love.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 he has lived his life prioritizing his family over everything else. to him nothing can go above and beyond familial love. he doesn't really believe he can love anyone anything like he loves his family and that is a statement of disappointed in itself. if there's anything he wants to give his best for it's people who have stuck with him since day one. bonds need to tested by time is the belief he holds dear until his world crashes into yours and time changes from something that defines to something that builds. his relationship with yours is not as long as people he's close to but however long you have spent together seems to strengthen and augment the bond. his love for you settles into an understanding of his when finds you running through days and nights in the hospital caring for his family after a big blow. a choice to choose, not an obligation to carry out. a crack in his notions you give him a new definition of love.
"y/n? baby come on go and freshen up, i'll watch over mom," his hand rests on your head, soft caresses to wake you up after the long night you spent sitting beside his mother while he ran around for paperwork. as you leave the room in a rush wanting to come back quickly and take his place so that he can get his rest, jay finds himself seeing you in a new light, telling his mother that he's found an angel. the angel she always told him about, the angel he loves.
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 he has spent years jumping from person to person, reveled and basked in moments of happiness and run away amidst the weights of problems. there is a price to pay for everything and love is no exception but he has yet to accept the fact of reality, the thorns that come along with the scent and beauty of roses. love gives and love takes, love heals and love hurts. it takes several trials and a meeting with you for jake to understand that. to him it is a conscious decision, a hard hit and an opening of eyes when he realizes you're the one for him. he has never made it work until you, coming to the conclusion in the middle of the worst argument that you're worth all the trouble. and if wants to have you by his side, he needs to fix this and he needs to cherish you. he can see himself with you for the rest of his life, one single person he is willing to fight for. for jake sim you are a sphere of acceptance, you redefine love and endurance for him.
"one day we're gonna have kids together and i want them to see that daddy really loves mommy, i'll change for the better i promise," jake's voice softens as he hits the big realization, getting down on his knees, tears falling free. your arms slip around him in a hug and jake swears he'll do all it takes to become the one for you, he'll do all it takes to make this worth it, he'll do all it takes to have you stay. because he's found the one he loves, the one he wants to be his best for.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 he has always felt a gaping hole in his chest, a feeling of homesickness even when he is home, a feeling of vanity even when he shines bright soaring through all the achievement of his dreams. to him there's something that's always missing. no he has never thought of love but he has never despised it either. he doesn't dwell on the possibilities of it but the absence and lack of them. until you enter his life completing him like a perfect piece of puzzle, a missing piece of him. he realizes his love for you in bits and moments of warmth, slowly step by step as you fill the void. from helping him through his hard times and cheering him on in his good ones, sunghoon finds his home in you, a walk so long but finally arriving at it's destiny, where it's always been meant to be. perhaps he's always longed for love and never understood it. nevertheless, park sunghoon finds it in his moments of mundanity with you. you teach him the power of the presence of love.
"my little charmie, loved your pretty banner," sunghoon leaves a wet kiss on your lips, arms going around your waist as he comes rushing to you a second after winning the championship, cameras all panned on the champion of the season but all he can see is you. you feel like a warm hug on a rainy day, a blanket of comfort near the fireplace. all the anxiety he ever felt, the pressure to be on the top, you took it all and turned it into something beautiful and enjoyable.
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 he has grown up surrounded and so bathed in love, he thinks he knows it all, he has seen it all. every version of love, and everything that exists in between. so confident he'd know it instantly, the one for him, the love of his life. but love takes time and love find it's loopholes. someone that evokes no romantic feelings could become everything in just a turn of events. kim sunoo never believed or cared to understand that until he felt that something for you. that little upturn of sparkles and butterflies, that intense emotion kindling in his heart when he sees you in a new ambience. a single moment of revelation when he's staring at you talk about things that you love, things that he doesn't like but suddenly he doesn't mind hearing about it. he knows he hasn't felt this way before for you, there's something different and that difference makes him rethink his entire relationship with you. you become so important to him in a split moment, love so familiar and calm yet unfamiliar and exciting.
"go on i'm listening," sunoo has his head on his hands, eyes shaped crescents, a gaze so loving anyone can see how he feels, so transparent. the tiny flowers behind you would look so pretty on you, no- you look so much prettier than the flowers, your voice is so pretty, the way your lips move, the way your eyes light up, has sunoo always loved hearing about legos? no. has he always loved listening to you? he doesn't know but he could hear you talk forever.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 he is one who sees love in everything around. the little things and the big things. in the light and in the dark. in memories of the past and in possibilities of the future. there is not a specific instance where he realizes his feelings. to him you are the premonition of love. he knew it from the very moment he met you that you are the one he is going fall in love with. that inner instinct that instantly sparked up when you entered his life. every day and every second it grows, it piles up, it escalates. the weight of life and the wings of love you make everything easier. one who has always given meeting one who gives back to him. overwhelmed in an ocean of new eternal verities, a feeling so mad, blind and passionate he finds himself wanting to be bound to you by his every bone. if there's a forever then he wants to spend it with you taking walks by the river, watching the lantern festival with a smile on your faces, so sick in love it makes everyone else sick.
"i wish this wish comes true," jungwon whispers to himself as he watches you walk ahead of him, turning back time and again to tell him how far your lit lantern made with a pretty little smile on your face. he wants to see this everyday, every morning, every night till however long he can and if possible even in his afterlife and all the lives that come ahead. to be the one to be chosen by you because he for one will always choose you in all forms of reality and at every chance,"baby wait up for me, let's go together!" hand in hand all along.
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 he has always found himself struggling to express his emotions, words and actions alike. something so inherent in him, he can't seem to overcome it. the sheer desperation to get his feelings through to someone, he's never felt it. he hasn't ever felt the need to feel it. to connect so closely with another is not something he has ever been comfortable with or wanted to be comfortable with. until you happened and riki's world went through a turmoil of sentiments, wrecking him from inside so intensely he could never go back to before. love is something he has never experienced and something he could never fathom. it just never made sense to him, how one could feel so much solely for another. but in moments of his silence where you struggled to understand it all, he realized the importance, the willingness to learn to express his feelings. your tears and your smiles he wanted to be the one to comfort and the one you showed your happiness to. the one you love and the one he loves.
"i've never said this before but you are so special to me, what i feel for you is something i've never felt for anyone else and i don't wanna lose you by not letting you know that. i'm wanna learn to show you that again and again," riki smiles through his tears letting himself be vulnerable before you, as you hold the little handmade gift he got. your own tears threatening to fall while you nod vigorously reaching forward to let him know it'll all be okay.
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TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly
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fallenneziah · 5 months
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Summary: Ghost's breeding instincts kick in on a cold night at the fire, and tension-turned arousal leaves you with one more body to feed.
CW: Dubcon, handjobs. Morbidly gross. Monsterfucking, Zombie! Ghost, breeding, cock swelling, deteriorating body parts, spit, Simon tries to be gentle, Ghost is there to breed. Cum inflation, cock warming. Slight angst. He tries to take care of you, but it's not really his main priority.
The zombie apocalypse has taken over the world. And you are stuck in the middle of nowhere. With no telecommunications, you were left to your own devices when your mission was sidetracked by the affected. You happened to be out with Simon when it happened, which ended in him getting bitten while you both were caught off guard.
And now you were stuck out here. Having moved from another safe haven from a lack of supplies and shelter.
Simon moaned from his broken maw, reaching out his hand lazily to the warm, crackling fire. His cold skin longed for warmth, the dark, bleak night providing you both no comfort. You gently moved his hand away, placing it back down. "Don't, You'll hurt yourself."
Simon moaned again, shifting and slouching, his glazed-over eyes staring into the fire hopelessly. Like he was lost. Feeling anxious again. He felt more anxious than you most times. But how could he not after the bite didn't fully rot away his brain?
The sound of wind and fire crackling filled the silence.
Simon huffed, his cold hand finding his slacks, still gazing into the fire as his palm dug against the seam along his crotch.
If he had done this when he was fully intact, you probably would have found it much hotter. But you knew Simon did this because he was anxious. You weren't entirely sure why he was anxious, but you gave him his space.
His hips shifted, whining against his palm while you pulled your jacket on tighter, feeling the fire whip and crackle.
‟Easy buddy, you're ok.”
Simon whined again, this time shifting his whole body as he pressed his palm harder into himself, almost like he wanted to tear his dick off. You got up and walked over to him, pulling his hand away. His head snapped at you, growling lightly. You ignored him, reaching over to rub his shoulders.
"It's alright, I'm here."
You felt him tense up a bit as you rubbed before he began to relax.
"I'll take care of you," you whispered, rubbing the back of his neck, making sure he could feel your touch. "Don't worry."
You reached down to his slacks and undid them, pulling down his zipper and letting his cock free from its confines.
He whined, squirming against your warm hand. You just wanted to help him. Seeing his swollen, puffy cock. Dripping with stagnant, thick white goo from the head of his cock. Black veins puffing out from the length and twitching.
You gripped it softly, feeling the cold, leathery skin in your hands. He moaned, eyes fluttering closed as he leaned back against the tree behind him. You rubbed the precum around with your thumb, feeling it stick between your fingers as you did.
You had to admit that it was kinda gross, but at the same time, you couldn't deny how much it turned you on.
Simon's glazed eyes followed you, trying to hump into your hand, needing the release. He was anxious, wirey, he wanted it out of him so badly. His instincts and his body told him.
Slowly sliding your hand up and down his cock, pulling the skin down over his head and then dragging back up. He moaned, his broken jaw lolling against the stretched skin. Watching with heavy, unfocused eyes as you stroked his puffy cock.
His cock twitched, dripping more ooze down the shaft.
"Good boy, Simon." You said softly, continuing to rub him. "Just let it all out."
Simon's breathing quickened, his hips moving erratically, trying to get as much friction as he could. His head lolled to one side, a cold hand grabbing your shoulder, the warmth of your palm was intoxicating him. He wanted you so badly. His cock desperately weeping from build-up and frustration.
You tried to keep him still, but he still struggled each way he wanted. His broken jaw hung, and moans flooded from his exhausted, deteriorating vocal cords.
He whined.
His hips jerked again, and you knew he was close.
You continued to stroke him, feeling the heat build in your stomach, making you feel flushed and warm. His glazed eyes searched around, humping your hand with vigour, breathing heavily, one hand digging his blunt, black nails into the dirt.
You squeezed the head of his cock, your thumb rubbing the leaking precum around so it would flow freely.
"Let it all out. Just release."
He whined, his cock twitching and bobbing as you squeezed the head tightly.
"Just let it all out. I'm here to help you, Simon."
The pressure built, his cock throbbing against your hand.
Spurting from the head in a stream of thick, white goo. He moaned and squirmed, gasping for air as his body slowly let him relax. The cum dripped from his cock to the ground, a large puddle growing around it.
His eyes fluttered, looking at you with a glazed expression. His cock didn't go down at all, oozing a little more. His fist came up, dirt-covered hand grabbing your wrist, pulling you toward him, craning his head up toward you. You leaned back a little, his cold breath coming out ragged. His thumb ran over your bottom lip, looking at you with an almost human expression. One he'd been lacking for months.
He let out another inhuman noise that strained your heart. He pulled away again, his cock still desperately hard for your warmth. He wanted you. He's always wanted you. And yet he's ended up here. He released your hand, palming his crotch again as if telling you to leave. That you could go now.
You were tempted to pull away. You could leave him. Let him deal with himself. But, you also didn't want to do that.
You sighed.
"Alright. You win." You said, getting up and going over to your pack.
You sat back by the fire. Pulling out a ration of canned food, cracking it open and pouring it into the old pot you had rummaged from an abandoned house.
Simon watched you from by the tree. His insides wanted you so badly. His cock twitched, throbbing from being unattended. He wanted you. Your warm hand on his cold, dead skin. He felt no warmth anymore, and he wanted it. He craved it.
And his resolve crumbled quickly when he found himself struggling with the open buckle of his tattered military pants. Crawling over to you and whining, nuzzling against your side.
He couldn't communicate, only make those horrible, grotesque noises.
But you understood what he wanted. You knew he was begging you to help him.
His cock dripping, humping his cock into the air, just shy of your body. You looked at how desperate he was. Gurgling and whining, fists clenching in the dirt. You reached out, wrapping your hand around his cock again, but you could tell he wanted more.
His cock twitched, pulsating, desperate for attention. He grabbed the pot, throwing it aside as he climbed onto your lap, straddling you. He pushed your head up, forcing your gaze to his face. His eyes were still glossy, his jaw hanging, his face still grey and rotten.
He was still dead.
But you knew what he was doing. He was trying to be dominant.
You didn't fight back, allowing him to lead.
He held his cock in his hand, stroking it, moaning as the head rubbed against your lips. You opened your mouth, feeling the cold, leathery skin on your tongue.
He was shaking as you found yourself sucking on his cock. Letting his precum dribble down your throat, making your throat burn. His cock grew, throbbing against your tongue and the back of your throat.
He was gentle, forcing you down further on his cock, making your throat bulge.
You gagged, your eyes watering, your throat burning.
And he released your head, letting you up for air.
You coughed, taking stock of the situation. He'd forced you down.
You relaxed, letting him push you back down again. And again.
A warm, wet place to empty himself. And he needed it. Badly.
In the back of your mind, you knew that he didn't mean to be forceful. He was just so desperate to get his human warmth. To get his sexual release. He didn't know what he was doing. He was just following his instincts.
His cock glistened in the firelight, throbbing as it leaked that thick, white goo.
He tugged your hair, moaning as you felt his cock press against the back of your throat. He wanted to cum. He wanted to flood your mouth with his dead, thick cum.
You gagged, pulling off his cock. You'd never gone blowjob far with him before. You just jerked him off or let him hump you, never actually sucked him. He didn't seem to mind, taking this as permission to fuck your face.
His cock stayed firm, the head brushing against your lips as he jerked his hips.
"Come on," you said, swallowing his precum, "cum for me."
You opened your mouth, letting him push the head of his cock inside. It was big. Bigger than anything you'd ever taken. His hand fell to one side again, his helmet slipping a little, tight slacks pulling up his thighs, boots chaffing his ankles. He growled hollowly, another orgasm spurting from his cock across your face and into your mouth.
You probably should have been prepared for it to taste disgusting, but you hadn't.
You gagged a little, spitting it out as much as you could, having to swallow the rest, your eyes watering a bit from the taste.
He moved one leg off you, you attempted to roll over and get up, but he grabbed your belt. You grunted as he pulled you to the ground, dragging you back over to him. He leaned over you, hooking his leg back over your thighs, cock pressing to your ass. His hands dug into your stomach, pulling you back up into him. Getting you under him, he blindly and desperately tries to find your belt.
You're not sure how to react.
He finally grabs your belt and starts yanking it, trying to force you onto your hands and knees.
"S-Simon… what are you doing?"
He grunted, yanking again.
You pushed him away.
"Simon! No!"
He grabbed your shoulders, forcing you back down.
He's too strong. You can't stop him.
You've always thought about this with him. But you were more worried about him in this form. Of what.. could happen. Worried about possible repercussions. But he kept you down, finding the buckle and struggling to get it off.
He whined, trying to tell you to relax, that you'd be okay, and he just needed this once, but he couldn't. He held you down, getting your pants down over your ass, cold hand digging under your panties, your scent filling him.
Simon had smelled your arousal before, but now it was closer. He could smell the arousal in your thighs and the warmth of your pretty cunt.
It made him want you. Made him feel a desire for you.
He was a bit clumsy, fumbling around and trying to get a grip on his dick.
You whimpered, reaching back and pushing his hand away.
His fingers wrapped around his cock, giving you a final chance to stop him. You whimpered, hoping he'd let this go.
But he couldn't. His cock grew, throbbing, pressing against your ass. He held you down, letting you know he wasn't going to let you go. You were his. His toy. His anything.
The head slipped into you, your soaking wet labia spreading around his cock.
He held still, cock throbbing and leaking precum. You let out a gasp of air, pain running through your body.
Simon whined in reply, wanting you to relax. To be ok. He wanted to breed you. He needed to fuck you so badly. The warmth of your insides was so intoxicating that he needed it. But he could tell you were struggling. He wanted to comfort you in any way he could.
He didn't dare try to push himself in further, his cock was throbbing and sensitive, and he didn't want to hurt himself. You didn't want to do this right now, but he needed a release. And you knew it would make him happy to cum. He'd be more docile afterwards.
He pulled out, rubbing the head against your clit, your body shuddering.
He knew this was what you wanted. He pulled out, body shaking as he grabbed your hips, pulling you back against him. He pushed in again, grunting from the pleasure of feeling you, the warmth pressing to him.
He pushed into you, groaning as your tight walls pressed to him. He could feel every fold of your insides, every irregular surface. His cock throbbed, his body growing hot and cold at the same time.
He pulled out, groaning as your wetness dragged over his head and pulled you back into him. His cock thrusting, the warmth and wetness of you pulling at him. He could feel every inch of you throbbing against you.
He pulled out, groaning as your body brushed his cock. And rammed into you, your wetness coating him.
"S-Simon… don't…"
He grunted, slamming into you. Your cervix was the only thing left keeping him out. You moaned around his cock, back arching as his speed increased. His blunt fingernails dug into your hips, head lolling, grunting and making grotesque noises as his cock fucked deep into your cunt.
You knew you couldn't keep him away, and the way he plunged into you, brushing the sweet bud deep inside you slowly unravelled you.
His body was rigid, the only thing he was concerned about was getting off.
He didn't care how many times he came, or how many times he'd cum on you. All that mattered was fucking his cock into your cunt.
"Simon!"
He slammed into you again, grunting. You moaned, head falling forward, your pussy dripping with arousal. You could barely control yourself, feeling your orgasm building up inside you. His cock hit you right where you needed it. As if he knew you in and out.
Simon could smell your arousal. He could practically smell your orgasm.
His cock pulsated inside you, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
Your legs quivered, feeling your orgasm approaching.
His hands squeezed your hips, cock pounding into you, hitting your g-spot.
"Simon! I'm…"
He slammed in again, his tip brushing your cervix, your body tensing up, legs shaking.
Your body shook as you squirted, coating his cock with your juices.
The smell made his head swim, his hands digging into your hips. He fucked you harder, his cock losing control. Your pussy tightened, pulling at Simon's cock, spasms running through your body, hot fluids flowing.
His cock throbbed, pulsating as it slapped against your pussy.
You rolled your head, moaning and rolling in pleasure as he slammed into you harder.
And he held you there, his orgasm tearing through him. His arms quivered as he pushed into you, cum spurting deep inside you as his orgasm hit.
Your breathing was ragged, hips falling into his with each thrust.
He snarled and moaned with a hollow tone against your ear, breathing harsh, fingernails digging in deeper. He pressed you to the cold ground, hips plunging deep inside you without remorse.
You cried, your legs locking again as he drove you insane.
His cock pumped cum deep inside you, coating your insides.
He panted, his cock twitching as the last of his cum dripped from his cock.
Your legs were shaking, his cock twitching, still buried deep in you. He held you there. Your head fell to the dirt, tilting back to look at him. He stared off into nothing, whining and then looking down at you.
He laid down, cock still deep inside you as his chest pressed to your back. He laid his head in the crook of your neck, gurgling softly. An apology.
You sighed, reaching back and running your hand over his cold cheek.
"I-It's okay… I understand."
His breath hitched, his jaw brushing your neck. He was scared.
You gently took his hand, placing it on your stomach. "We'll figure it out. We'll work it out together."
He whined softly, nuzzling his face against yours. Nestling you close, staring into the still crackling fire as you rested on the cold ground. His cock was warm inside you, and he had zero intention of leaving so quickly.
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nopanamaman · 1 month
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How do mutants in the Facility live?
Patreon Loredump. August 2023
One of the most frequent types of questions I get are about life in the Facility. So it seems like a good topic to start my loredumping series with! 
Apologies in advance for all the photo examples, I hope they work fine for getting the vibes across.
Overview
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The facility dome is visible in the distance.
The facility in general – or, as it’s officially known, the Zh. I. Alferov National Institute of Anomalous Research – is a large structure located on the border of the Zone. Its most notable feature is the massive dome surrounded by an outside wall.
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The wall. In real life, the famous building of НИЦЭВТ.
The latter is a building in itself, containing offices, lecture halls, resting and dining quarters for researchers, as well as minor labs. All entrances are supervised, though not totally closed off to the public. Excursions, official meetings, TV reports – all of those happen within the wall.
But you will not find any mutants here. As you may have already guessed, all the major laboratories, anomalous artefacts, and, of course, mutants are housed in the dome. The entrances to the dome are monitored and equipped with anomaly scanners, allowing only authorised personnel and mutants to travel between its sectors.
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Mutants cannot traverse the facility unsupervised.
What is the mutant classification system?
Depending on their anomalous characteristics, cooperability and method of containment, mutants are sorted into types and numbered groups. Individual mutant numbers usually look like XT000-000.
Let’s use Dmitry as an example.
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Dima’s serial number is DT001-319.
The type constitutes the first part of the mutant’s number. Dima’s mutation is Directional Type, hence the letters DT at the start (for the record, KT stands for Kernel Type).
Next we have the 00X number. Mutants are assigned a 001, 002, 003 or 004 class depending on the potency and containability of their mutation – kinda like SCPs, yeah. Dima has a very powerful mutation he has good control over, plus he is sound of mind, making him suitable for 001 containment.
The last three digits are the overall number of the mutant within their type. So if Dima’s are 319, the facility has had 318 directional-type mutants on record prior to his arrival. This does not mean they were as powerful or had the same level of control over their telekinesis, just that they possessed a similar mutation to some extent.
How do different mutant classes live?
001
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001 quarters example. Not too different from a hospital or sanatorium
Subjects ranked as 001 are extremely powerful, have good control over their powers and are, most importantly, docile. Since their mutations are very potent and difficult to forcefully contain, the go-to approach is making them not want to leave.
001s spend most (if not all) of their conscious lives surrounded by doctors. The latter foster a particular mindset in their subjects, where the world outside is presented as a place that is unanimously hostile to mutants. This is done by means of propaganda, reminders about their family’s supposed mistreatment and, in case a mutant has some favourable recollections of their childhood, gaslighting. Additionally, subjects are never left alone with each other.
001s get very luxurious treatment by facility's standards, with much bigger, more comfortable rooms than other mutant types. They're even allowed to have gaming consoles, TVs with VHS and video players, and their own bookshelves. Each mutant has their own separate room, which is kept under constant camera surveillance with the toilet being the only blind spot.
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Special folders are issued to 001s before experiments with lower-ranked mutants.
Experiments held on 001s are relatively humane so as not to discourage them from staying at the facility. They do undergo daily checkups mostly designed to monitor their mental state. 001s are also active participants in experimentation on lower-ranked mutants, who they are taught and encouraged to treat as lesser beings.
001s are a high-risk investment, so their numbers are far smaller than those of 002 and 003-class mutants. Additionally, because of the potential danger they present, the institute is quick to dispose of 001 subjects by either termination or reclassification to 004. Though, if a 001 manages to stay cooperative long-term, they can become a very valuable asset for the facility.
002 and 003
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002 and 003 quarters example. Though, they’re typically not as well-kept
002 and 003 mutant classes can be grouped together, since their treatment is largely the same. Both of these types’ mutations are easy to forcibly contain. The difference is their danger levels. 003s require close monitoring to not be harmful to others, while 002s are borderline harmless. Both types are characterised by general cooperability.
002s live in wards for 2 to 4 people, while 003s are more commonly placed in single-person wards to prevent accidents. A standard room includes a bed, a desk and a small bathroom (multiple beds and two desks in bigger wards).
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KT got to take a dinosaur plushie to her room for good behaviour.
Mutants are allowed to borrow books from the library, as well as get drawing and writing materials. If they behave well, they can get a toy or even be lent a handheld console for a few days. 
002s and 003s have breakfasts, lunches and dinners together, and can spend some time in the playroom with other mutants (that’s also where they can play computer games and watch TV) – all under very strict surveillance, of course.
In some ways, their treatment is much less cruel than that of the elite 001 subjects.
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KT before the DT experiment.
Though, not when it comes to experiments. 002s and 003s are very common, and are thus treated as disposable material in a scientific sense. The people holding experiments on them are a lot less concerned with minimising the subject’s pain or discomfort. Consequently, it’s not uncommon for mutants of these classes to sustain serious injuries or die as a result of experimentation.
That said, 002s have the highest likelihood of getting released from the facility, given they meet the conditions for it (more on that below).
004
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004 quarters example. Basically a prison bunker
004 is a special category reserved for powerful mutants that refuse or physically cannot cooperate. This number can also be issued as a temporary or permanent punishment to misbehaving mutants. The 004 quarters are located underground and have the highest level of security, acting as a sort of bunker for the most dangerous subjects the facility has.
004 rooms are even more barebones than those of 002 and 003s. They have no access to entertainment (unless it is somehow required to contain their mutation) and cannot leave their room under any circumstances. They are more weapons than test subjects.
Do mutants receive education?
All mutants from class 003 and above receive basic education, learning to read, write and count. They additionally get curated history and sociology lessons. Some mutants, namely 001s, attend mandatory classes in certain disciplines to better apply their mutation. For example, Dmitry studied anatomy to know the precise positioning of internal organs.
Mutants are also free to study whatever sciences interest them in their free time by asking for educational materials at the library. Needless to say, most kids aren’t too interested in that, and are very uneducated compared to their outside peers.
Is there censorship in the facility?
All the media mutants are exposed to at the facility is strictly controlled.
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6 y.o. Dima and his politically correct PSP.
The only movies, cartoons, comics, books and games allowed are those that either don't feature the Zone or mutants at all, those that show the discrimination mutants face outside, or those that are very obvious anti-mutant propaganda.
In essence, there are no positive depictions of human-to-mutant interaction, aside from ones between mutants and noble scientists. And, of course, nothing that goes against the general government ideology.
Can mutants be released from the facility?
It is generally assumed that mutants that go into the dome do not come out.
While they are largely dehumanised, the facility is still publicly presented as a sort of scientific sanatorium and hospice for those that cannot safely exist in society. Releasing mutants that know the truth behind the institute’s experiments into the wild is simply of no benefit to the government. So the majority are terminated once their scientific potential is exhausted or if they become too expensive to contain. As a result, few mutants live to adulthood.
Though, there are exceptions to the rule. Occasionally, mutants deemed non-hazardous can be released back into society. This is applicable to mutants that have not experienced significant mistreatment from the facility, lack the ability to talk about their experiences and optimally have been brainwashed by an appropriate 001 subject.
Have other mutants before DT and KT ever escaped?
The funny thing is, escapes aren’t a particularly rare occurrence.
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Dmitry and Katya’s escape in KT’s Official Guide to Coolness.
Despite getting a lot of funding, the facility itself is very disorganised. Most of the money is blatantly pocketed by the higher-ups, so a lot of its structures and equipment are subpar – this includes its outdated safety systems. To top it all off, the security staff isn’t especially well-paid, so their diligence is highly questionable.
With all that piling up, there are around 3 cases of low-level escapes every year. Because of tight budgets and plenty of work to do as is, these escapes are generally brushed under the rug. The institute still keeps tabs on the escapees in case they happen to show up on the radar, but it rarely organises active searches or alerts the public for that matter.
DT and KT’s escape stood out because it was anything but low-level, and pretty bombastic at that. But even that didn’t warrant a public announcement for fear of panic and reputational damage. So if you’re an 003 mutant looking for an opportunity to sneak out… Hell, man, just go for it.
Wrap-up
That’s about all I can say about mutants’ life in the research centre, scratch some small factoids here and there. I tried to answer the most common questions regarding the topic, so I hope your curiosity was satisfied!
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miraclewoozi · 12 days
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SPECTACLE. -j.ww
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in which your new boyfriend, wonwoo, doesn't give a crap about his expensive eyewear.
pairing : wonwoo x fem!reader. content : smut. pwp. tags under the cut. MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT. w/c : 2.7k. notes : yeah i kinda. went insane over this idea. so. bon appetite to you, and also to wonwoo ? i guess.
content + smut tags : established - but new - relationship. making out. FACE SITTING. impact play? (one gentle butt slap). the shenanigans are on a couch if that matters, i don't know. reader is a little shy about doing it. PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything.
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Wonwoo looks flushed when he pulls away from where he’s been kissing and nipping at the side of your neck, hair stuck up in every direction thanks to your tugging fingers and your gentle guidance to help him find your sweet spots. His lips are pink and a little plumped. His glasses are steaming up, sitting halfway down the bridge of his nose, and every slightly heavier breath he takes makes his broad chest rise and fall where it’s pressed wholly against yours.
You can’t help yourself from leaning forward into another kiss; he’s completely irresistible. Maybe the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. And while this isn’t really news to you, the dynamic of your relationship with him shifted a month or so ago and you’re still getting used to the privilege of seeing him this close up. 
He’s still adjusting too, if the way he groans directly into your mouth, hands groping harder at the curve of your ass as you shuffle in his lap is anything to judge by. Still learning, still figuring you out. But – and this is how you know what you’re building here might be the real deal – even when it’s clumsy, and when you knock teeth while you’re kissing and burst into slightly pained giggles, or when things accidentally slip out of place while you’re getting steamy… everything Wonwoo does makes your spine tingle. Makes your stomach flip. Makes your core throb. 
Even when it doesn’t always work? It makes sense, and it’s perfect, and losing yourself in the way his lips caress and worship yours is so damn easy when he murmurs your praises just for letting him do this in the first place.
“Will you do something for me?” He asks after a small forever, pulling back just far enough that he's not breathing up your nose. His hands have made their way under your – his – hoodie now and he’s grazing his fingers over your ribs, tickling enough to make you whimper, not enough for you to want to swat him away.
You think you’d give him the world if he asked for it in that deep, rough voice he adopts when things start heading in this direction. The moon too. Shit, if you could get a lasso around the sun and bring it closer to keep him warm, you’d do that as well. So, whatever his little request is now, you know you’re going to agree; resting your hands on his shoulders (finally leaving his gorgeous hair alone), you lean back from him and nod your head.
“Anything,” you say. You’re certain that you feel his cock twitch in his sweatpants where it’s pressed against the inside of your thigh, but you’re not quite sure why. 
It makes you feel hot, though. More-so when he bites back a grin, lips curling in that adorable way. It feels greatly unfair that you can’t swoop down right this second to kiss him again, and again, and again; as painful as it is though, you do exercise enough grace to wait for him to come out with it.
“Get up,” he says softly, dropping his hands down your sides and squeezing at your hips once. 
You do as he asks and move off his lap, sitting on the other side of the couch; he doesn’t say anything else as he stands up himself, pulls his hoodie off over his head and tosses it to one side before sinking all the way down to the floor. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t see you. He shuffles into place with his back against the edge of the seat and only once he’s comfortable does he turn to look at you over one shoulder, grinning brilliantly.
“Okay,” he says, bending his knees and planting his heels into the floor. “Come here.”
You stand up off the cushions now and look down at him for a second, wondering what on Earth is going through his mind, but you know better than to start questioning his strange ideas. Especially when he’s in this sort of a mood. You step over him, one foot either side of his hips, and start to drop down too, but he puts a hand on each of your knees and stops you before you’re in his lap once again.
“No,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head. His hands then make their way to the backs of your thighs and he pushes forwards, trying to guide you where he wants you. Your knees bend of their own accord and press against the couch on both sides of his head. “Like this.”
You don’t exactly freeze up, but it is as if you forget how to control all of your muscles for a second. The ones in your legs seem to turn to jelly and you know it’s only because the sofa is currently taking a portion of your weight that you don’t buckle completely and fall onto the top of his head. The ones in your face give you a slack-jawed, wide-eyed, unblinking expression. 
Your abdominal muscles tighten and your cunt flutters at what you’re sure he’s trying to suggest, the rush of wetness you feel only worsened by the intensity in his eyes as he tips his head back and looks at you.
“Please?” He asks, all sweet but deep and rough at the same time. 
“Are you s–?” You start to ask. 
Wonwoo clicks his tongue at you and tries to encourage you further onto the couch to prove his point. “Yes,” he says, nodding eagerly. 
And then, just so you really can’t mistake what he's asking for–
“I want you to sit on my face.”
Your entire body heats up at how bluntly he says it. You squeeze your eyes shut and bite the inside of your cheek so that you don’t accidentally laugh with the nerves already trying to burst out of your tummy. 
It’s not that you don’t want to. If you had a penny for every time you’d thought about him giving himself up for your pleasure this way, you’d be rich. You do. You’re going a little crazy just imagining how good it’s going to feel. 
It’s just that him being so bold about it has you feeling shy, and that’s never happened to you before. You’re at a loss. You’re totally stumped.
When you open your eyes again and look down at him, Wonwoo is just as earnest and hungry for you as he was a few seconds ago. If anything, it’s as if he wants it more. It’s without a doubt the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re nodding at him; his fingers start to drag up and down the backs of your thighs happily, before they hook under the waistband of your shorts and gently make that first little pull.
“If you don’t like it, we can stop,” he says to you, only pulling them all the way down when you start to help him. They get tossed over to the side to join his hoodie after you step out of them. His eyes glance to the panties you’re wearing – the last barrier, the final thing keeping him from what he’s so desperate for – before he looks back at your face and flashes you a smile. “Just tell me, okay?”
“It’s not that,” you laugh softly, taking off your own jumper and throwing it onto the pile. Wonwoo groans at the sight of you; you roll your eyes at him. “You just… took me by surprise.”
“Good,” he sighs, wrapping an arm around one of your legs and letting you settle onto your knees in position over his mouth, pressing his fingers into the top of your thigh. 
The first soft press of his lips over your panties makes you gasp and you hold a little tighter onto the back cushions as you look down at him. His eyes are closed already as he breathes your heady scent in, deep enough to hopefully stain his lungs, enough that he’ll never get rid of it, that he’ll be able to carry you everywhere he goes. 
But Wonwoo’s closed eyes aren’t the only thing you notice between your thighs and a soft laugh replaces the pleased sounds already spilling from your lips. One hand drops down to where he's settled and your fingers brush against his temple as they try to pinch at one side of his glasses. He looks affronted when he catches your gaze.
“What’re you doing?” He asks, gently moving your hand away. 
You tilt your head at him. “Your glasses,” you prompt, moving to reach for them again. His fingers curl around your wrist and he shoves your hand into his hair instead, rubbing the tip of his nose against the inside of your thigh.
“I want to keep them on,” he tells you.
“What if they break?”
“Don’t care,” he hums, kissing his way back towards your covered pussy. “I’ll buy a new pair. I just wanna see you.”
You swallow at this and decide that you’re definitely not going to try and change his mind, instead choosing to tilt your head back and let his skilled tongue work you up through your underwear. It’s a mess of arousal and spit and they’re soaked, translucent, clinging to you by the time he’s frustrated with them; frankly, so are you, and it's a relief when he concludes that enough is enough.
“Baby,” he groans as he pulls your underwear to one side and has to crane his neck up to lick the flat of his tongue in a stripe up your slit. You whine, the cool air and his hot breaths a menacing mix of sensations, but you don’t have the sense to respond; one soft slap of his hand against your ass makes you look back down at him, though, and you’re met with dark eyes, flushed cheeks and a practically frenzied Wonwoo in the space between your hips. Your sweet, softly spoken boyfriend is nowhere to be found.
“I said, sit.”
His strong arm tugs you down and your knees slide against the cushions, bringing your pussy even closer to his face, literally forcing you to rest against his lips. He chuckles triumphantly and buries his tongue between your folds, tasting you so much more legitimately than before. The way he loves – straight from the source, the spring. You feel him prod at your hole and your walls clench around what he gives you – barely just the tip, but it’s enough to have you reeling already, and when his other arm hooks around your other thigh, when he starts to move you back and forth, you take very little convincing to start to rock your hips down against him on your own.
“Oh,” you whimper as his lips seal around your clit and he sucks at it once, giving a few experimental flicks of his tongue at the same time. The hand in his hair tightens immediately and Wonwoo groans with you still in his mouth, sending delicious vibrations through your sensitive nerves and making you gush onto his chin. 
“So fucking pretty like this,” he tells you, stroking his thumb over your waist. “Might be my new favourite view.”
He keeps lapping at you teasingly, testing circles and sideways motions, precise swipes, long drags; every subtle change as he tries to find what makes you scream in this position draws a different sound from your throat. He tenses the muscle and fucks your dribbling hole with it while encouraging you to move enough forward that his nose bumps against your clit with every jerky rock of your hips. You’re grinding faster, now, pressing down against his mouth harder, caring less by the second about whether his glasses are actually going to break in two. Besides, the way he drinks you down tells you that he could do this for a week straight without getting tired; he doesn’t want you to stop, or slow down, or ease up. He wants more. And if you’re too shy to give it to him, he’ll just take, take, take.
“Just– oh, fuck,” you gasp as his tongue finds your clit again and he laps at it with so much zeal that he could rival your favourite vibrator. “Just like that–”
Both of his hands grasp you tighter, squeezing and massaging and kneading at your soft skin as you chase your high on his pretty face. His eyes are tightly closed in his own rapture, and you hope that he won’t blame you for wanting him to open them; your hand pulls harshly at his hair again, hard enough to make him cringe, enough to make him stop for just a second before he sees how wound-up you look. You try to pull off from him a little, at least enough for him to catch a couple of breaths, but Wonwoo captures your pussy between his lips before you even hear him inhale.
“You– you wanted to s—see me,” you stutter out as the fire starts to catch and you feel warmth and ecstasy start to build at your core. “Fuck– ah–”
So he does. With big, hungry eyes, Wonwoo watches as you hurtle towards oblivion, as you writhe and squirm and grind down against his ardent mouth.
He sends you crashing over the edge with a wet sob, your own eyes closing now as you see stars in the darkness and ride your high out on his still-moving tongue. There are tears on your cheeks before you can do anything about it. Your walls spasm around nothing. He barely slows, taking back enough pressure so that your pleasure doesn’t turn to pain. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t even blink until you’re out the other side of your climax, though.
When your pants start to die down and you’re twitching to get away from him, so sensitive that even his tiny kisses make you shudder, Wonwoo drops his head back down to the pillows and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. You don’t have the strength to move yet, still reeling, still too floaty to try for any level of coordination, but he doesn’t mind. Your swollen, glistening pussy right over his face is something he'd pay millions to see.
“Didn’t even break the glasses,” you laugh weakly once your voice decides to come back to you. 
“Mm,” Wonwoo hums, sliding them off his nose and inspecting them. He ‘tsk’s before putting them back on. They’re steamed at the edges and a little smeary now, and he surely can’t actually see that clearly through them. He obviously doesn’t care. “That’s not good enough.”
“Huh?” you ask, moving carefully so as not to plant your knee into his jaw but still trying to bring your legs together so that you can sit to one side. He isn't having it, though, and slowly shuffles up onto his knees, turns around to face you and lays his fingers on one of your ankles, wasting no time in trying to pry your legs apart again.
“That’s. Not. Good. Enough,” he repeats, using his other hand to palm himself over the fabric of his sweatpants. The tent in them would be comical if it weren’t for the animalistic look in his eyes; there’s nothing laughable about the way he’s looking at you right now, though.
“So what are we gonna do about it?” You ask, opening back up for him and not hiding how you stare as he rips his shirt off over his head. Then, he slides his fingertips up the inside of your calf, to your knee, down your thigh… he drags them over the lips of your pussy and collects a little of your slick on them before bringing his hand to his lips and sucking it clean.
“I’ve got a few ideas,” he tells you, groaning at your sweet taste as if he wasn’t just drowning in it a minute and a half ago. He lowers himself until he's once more level with your cunt and guides both of your legs over his shoulders, smirking up at your expectant face. “Maybe try to squeeze your thighs a little more this time. See if that does the trick.”
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thank you so much for reading!! i hope u enjoyed this hehe. as always, likes, reblogs, replies, feedback and asks are always super appreciated.<3
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gallusrostromegalus · 6 months
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Hi Gallus, I'm doing some worldbuilding and you seem like you could be connected enough for me to find an answer to the problem of dwarven agriculture. Many problems are created by the requirement of no sunlight, as even the common response of mushrooms still need light to break down decomposing matter as a primary energy source. Currently, we're thinking that they use a special type of mushroom that breaks down rocks in an energy-producing reaction, giving them enough energy to absorb nutrients and grow - this would serve a second purpose in explaining why building a massive hollowed-out mountain fortress doesn't produce an equally large amount of gravel.
Any thoughts? We're grasping at straws kinda lol
Well, some thoughts:
There's plenty of cave systems (especially Karst Systems) that are at least partially open to Sunlight- especially the kind that have rivers running through them, which is something else that's really helpful for agriculture.
For Example: This Cool AF Sinkhole cave in china that has an entire Forest in it
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Now There's a view to put outside the city Gates!
Karst specifically is a landscape where underground rivers hollow out the limestone underground and then the cave roofs fall in. This kind of landscape answers your gravel question nicely: the hollowed out mountain does produce an equal amount of gravel, but the gravel turns up as the sandy banks of the river system hundreds of miles away.
So, there's your sunlight that can be used directly, or reflected or magically transferred deeper into the cave system.
Or they just put more holes in the roof! Unless your dwarves are also vampires, there's no reason for them to not hollow out a few Skylights into the mountain too.
But let's talk some other cave ecology and agriculture!
For starters, your dwarves could be sitting on top of a literal gold mine that would allow them to trade for a lot of needed materials and crops.
And by gold mine, I mean Salt Mine.
Historically, salt comes out of hollowed-out mountains and is worth more than gold.
Also something the humans have historically fought a bunch of wars over, so there's some free political tensions if you needed that!
I can also mean the possible fucking enormous piles of bat guano that accumulates in Karst caves, which is the world's most insanely good fertilizer, and ALSO something that has been worth more than it's weight in gold.
Speaking of Gold, another thing that often lives in sinkhole caves in abundance is BEES. turns out, limestone stalactites are a terrific place to build a hive that is difficult for predators to reach, stays dry and the stone substrate means the hives can reach many tons in weight before they start having structural issues. That sweet, sweet insect-derived liquid gold is already important to Dwarves in a lot of folklore- it's really hard to have a Traditional Dwarven Mead Hall without the honey to make the mead, you know?
So you got your mushrooms, you got your sunlight-grown sinkhole crops, you got your traded goods and you got your source of alcohol- the only thing really missing from an ancient food pyramid here is a staple carbohydrate. To that end, may I propose our good Peruvian Friend: The Potato.
Grain crops aren't actually all that nutritious and were kept around in ancient societies more as legal tender that kept the peasants busy, because wheat or rice takes months to grow, an enormous amount of labor to harvest, and wheat also needs to be milled before it can be turned into food- all enormously time-consuming processes that keep peasants busy and easy to rule tyranically over.
Potatoes though? Pop one in the ground in spring and you can dig up fingerlings all summer, and if you make potato towers, you can harvest up to 40lbs of delicious, easy-to-prepare-and-store carb out of a single plant- a real space-saver for the limited sinkhole skyspace.
If your dwarves have cheese, the potato makes even more sense, because Potato+dairy is the easiest, most nutritionally complete survival food there is.
Finally, consider: Dwarven Vodka.
This post is open for anyone to comment suggestions on, but that's my take: put your dwarves in a Karst-sinkhole cave system, give them a highly in demand resource like salt or guano, bees, and taters. Boom. Whole agriculture, economy and political scheme starters.
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makwebba · 2 months
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better than a podium l LN4
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summary: lando could've won his first race in silverstone but he ended up not finishing. pairing: lando x gf!reader warnings: mentions of lando crashing and swearing. note: my first formula 1 fan fiction! not my first time writing fan fictions but it has been a couple of years since i wrote something and lately my love for writing is slowly coming back. the pictures are from pinterest and idk who the owners are so if you guys know the owner or if you are the owner, please lemme know :( also no hate on checo but it just kinda make sense cause he's in a red bull idk. dont come for me. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy it!
- lando was leading the race in silverstone, his home race. you could've not been more prouder for your boyfriend, you were certain he was gonna win the race but not until checo hit the rear tyre of lando's car which cause him to spun out and hit the barrier. your heart sank, everything went numb and it felt like the world just stopped. it was a bad crash, you waited for his voice to come through the mclaren headset that's snugged onto your ear. "lando, are you okay, mate?" randy asked through the radio. you can hear him grunt and groan in agony, breaking your heart even further. you hated seeing him like this every time you come and watch him race. what felt like ages, the medical car finally showed up to retrieve him back to the garage. lando didn't even bother making any eye contact with anybody once he got to the garage, not even you. he just went straight back to his driver's room, hearing the door slam behind you. you sighed as you rubbed your face with your hands in frustration. you walked over to where he locked himself in, you didn't even have to see him to feel the tension that was building in the air as you knocked on the door. "lan...?" your voice muffled against the wooden barrier between you and lando. lando's eyes closed shut when he heard your voice behind the door, he always loved how soft spoken you were to him. he hasn't responded back to you as he stayed where he was sat before deciding opening the door for you. there he is. what he once was; a ray of sunlight beaming through the morning sun to becoming the loud rumbling sound of thunder at night. you furrowed your brows as you quickly but gently swift his hand up against yours while you closed the door behind you. "hey..." you whispered as you brought your hand up to his face, searching for his eyes. lando was not the type to cry but boy, he was just on the verge of losing it. you brought him into a tight embrace, your face nuzzled on the crook of his neck and his arms wrapping around your back. he held you tight as you started to hear him sniffle which ached your heart painfully. you had to fight your tears back because he hated seeing you be so empathetic for him whenever he had a bad race. "i was close... so fucking close..." he mumbled, his voice getting choked up. "i know, my love. i know." you slowly pulled away from him as he quickly wiped the tears building up in his eyes with the palm of his hand before it could stream down his face. you rubbed his arms for comfort as you stood before him, you finally managed to see his eyes. oh so beautiful but it was filled with so much anger and pain. "you did so well out there. and i know your fans wanted you to win as much as you do. we all did. but sometimes things just doesn't go our way..." you said, running your fingers through the side of his head, intertwining with his curls. "could never win a race, huh?" he muttered, moving your hand away from him. "i don't know why i got into this sport in the first place. not even good at it." it broke your heart to hear him talk so low about himself. you tilted your head slightly to the side as your brows furrowed when he moved your hand away from him, stopping you from running your fingers through his hair. you didn't let him get away from it when you placed both of your hands on his face, staring directly into his eyes. "you don't have to be a race winner to be a great driver. you are enough." lando looked back into your eyes which eased him a little. he took a deep breath in when his hand found a place down on your lower back, a soft smile appeared on his face which made you smile back at him.
it was that contagious. "in everyone's eyes you're a winner. to me you're a champion." a wave of warmth cruised all over lando's body when you said those words to him. it definitely hit a nerve in his system but in a good way. it didn't take long until lando pulled you in closer to him and placed his lips against yours, gentle and passionate. "i wouldn't know what i would've done if you weren't here..." he said. landonorris and ynusername
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liked by mclaren, user1, user2 and 1,233,754 others landonorris shoulda woulda coulda, right? but i’ve got something better than a podium.
the end x
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miquella-everywhere · 2 months
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Rating the Demigods based off their Homes
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Technically Leyndell is not Morgotts house but his moms, which he inherited after escaping the sewers she threw him into, but he also runs the place like the navy runs a ship, so everything is in perfect working order. Nobody has any clue who he is and I appreciate his commitment to the bit. 8/10 really cool scenery but could definitely use some dusting and giant dragon corpse removal.
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The Moghwyn Dynasty is every health inspectors worst nightmare. General unsanitary setting and blood swamps, Albinaurics captured and forced to assimilate against their will, along with several war medics, and also Mohg has the body of his shriveled up half-brother in his freezer. But overall the ancient civilization that lived here before Mohg had pretty okay taste, especially since they built their city under an underground starry sky. 10/10 but only because the health inspector died and Mohg forged the health report.
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Godrick snuck in after his failings at the Shattering and just straight up claimed the place as his own, so Stormveil technically isn't even his house. Also his presence alone is so rank that thorns have started festering outside of the castle. 8/10 to the Stormlords cause they've got sick sense of style, but 2/10 to Godrick because he is a literal home invader.
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Radahn does not give two shits about architecture, he clearly made Redmane based off of every other fort in the Lands Between and chose function over fashion, which is fair I guess, but also kinda boring. At least he strung up the all of the swords in Redmane and gave it some flaire. 4/10 because Redmane is so basic, plus minus 1 point for the tetanus hazard.
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Raya Lucaria had an architecture course as an elective and Rykard committed himself to his GPA and developed his own aesthetic. He graduated top of his class and Rennala baked a cake for him. Best day of his life. Then he went up to Mt. Gelmir and was like, "I should totally make this place my house," and then he did because nobody had the balls to stop him. 10/10 for his commitment to the blasphemy aesthetic. And props to Tannith for doing a great job keeping the foyer the cleanest place in the Lands Between, but also 1/10 for the backyard being a general crime against humanity.
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Ranni follows the rule of, "if it aint broke dont fix it," which is exactly why she broke everything else in the world and then returned to her childhood home after the Shattering. Caria could definitely use some bedrooms though because where the heck does everyone sleep?? Or do anything else for that matter???? Caria: Bathroom? Never heard of it. 6/10 because the sparkly magic bits in the air are super cool but Caria Manor definitely should've been a legacy dungeon.
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Miquella attended both Leyndell and Raya Lucaria architecture classes, excelling over everyone and beating Rykards score in the final exam by exactly one point, and yet has no idea why Rykard is so pissed at him. Then after disowning his dad he had the great idea to try and build a treehouse but grew his own tree first because he's an over achiever and has gifted kid syndrome. 10/10 because the aesthetic is elegant and immaculate, and everyone who has depression is trying to get there for free therapy.
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Malenia went to architecture school with Miquella because she had nothing better to do and slept through every class. The most she did there was break up Miquella and Rykards final exam squabble and also couldn't care less about architecture because she's fuckin blind. Rates the Haligtree architecture 10/10 because even though she's blind, she's sure that Miquellas sense of style is very pretty. But also rates it a 2/10 because Miquella keeps stubbing his toes and tripping on the carved stone flooring even though he insists everything is fine.
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The Land of Shadow is less of Messmers house and more of his eternal timeout corner. He temper-tantrumed too hard one day and Marika put him there then completely forgot he ever existed. -10/10 because the parental abandonment is so real
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ashwhowrites · 5 days
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Eddie Munson x Cunningham! Reader, what if Reader is Chrissy's stepsister or smth like that, and she fell for Eddie, Chrissy's friend, but she thinks Chrissy likes Eddie, so she's always kinda mad at Chrissy and Eddie, and Eddie notices it, and talks with reader and she confesses and he tells her that Chrissy has been giving him some tips to make Reader fall in love with him?
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Wrong Cunningham
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Y/N Cunningham was not the preppy cheerleader type like her stepsister was. She enjoyed books, video games, and being in her circle of friends. Y/N met many people because of Chrissy's popularity, which she never cared about. But then Chrissy brought home the most gorgeous boy she had ever seen.
His name was Eddie Munson. He had dark curly long hair, big brown eyes, and pink lips. Y/N never felt a crush this intense before, but the second she saw Eddie she couldn't forget about him. She thought about him all the time.
Eddie came over more and more. He even began to have dinner at the house. Y/N got lost in everything he said. Even when he didn't talk, her eyes were still on him. She'd blush and look away when he looked back at her.
But her big crush meant a huge amount of envy towards Chrissy. Chrissy already had a boyfriend, popular, and treated her like a queen. Now she had the attention of Eddie all over her. It was wrong for Chrissy to lead Eddie in the way she was. Which caused Y/N to be even more annoyed with Chrissy.
~~~~
Y/N sang to herself as she dusted her picture frames. She was in her own little world she didn't know Eddie was leaning against her door frame with a smile.
"You have a beautiful voice."
Y/N jumped and turned. She was shocked to see Eddie walking into her room. She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
"Oh! I didn't know you were here." Y/N said she put down her duster.
"Couldn't pass up your mom's meatloaf." Eddie joked, and Y/N laughed and agreed.
"Do you sing just for fun or perform?" Eddie asked
"Oh god no. I could never sing in front of anyone." Y/N said
"I always thought the same thing but now I'm in a band and perform every Friday, at the hideout, at eight," Eddie said, Y/N felt nervous as he moved closer.
"Is that an invitation?" Y/N asked, she hoped it was.
"If you want it to be." Eddie smiled, now steps closer. He was so close she could smell his addicting cologne.
If she wanted it to be? Of course, she did. But did he want her to?
"EDDIE, where are you?" Chrissy said as she walked up the stairs. Hearing her voice, Y/N stepped away from Eddie and went back to cleaning.
Eddie deflated as she moved away and turned her attention elsewhere.
"Looks like that is your cue," Y/N snapped
Chrissy walked in, "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt." Chrissy winked at Eddie.
"Sure you didn't," Y/N said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. Eddie and Chrissy shared a look as Y/N brushed past them to leave the room.
~
Dinner was awkward and tense. Chrissy kept drifting her eyes between Y/N and Eddie. Eddie kept his eyes on Y/N as he tried to figure out what changed. And Y/N kept her eyes down.
Chrissy vowed to get to the end of it.
~~~
Eddie shook off his nerves and walked to Y/N as she closed her locker. After the dinner, a few days ago, things were still tense. But Eddie wanted to try again with Y/N.
"Hey, Y/N"
"Hi Eddie," Y/N smiled
"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the hideout tonight?" Eddie tried to smile confidently, but he was nervous.
"With you?" Y/N felt excited but she felt like she shouldn't be. Chrissy liked him and he liked her.
"Well no," Y/N sighed but Eddie continued, "I will already be there to set up for my performance. But I want you to meet me there."
Y/N felt her excitement building again.
"Yeah, that sounds cool." Y/N smiled a small heat of blush on her cheeks.
"Sweet! And Chrissy is welcome to tag along. You know so you don't have to show up alone at a new place." Eddie explained. He thought he sounded caring, but Y/N took it a different way.
"Oh right, Chrissy. I'll let her know." Y/N smiled before she walked off.
~
Y/N sighed as she got home. After Eddie's not subtle way of asking Chrissy to be there, Y/N didn't feel like going. She told Chrissy that Eddie wanted her to attend tonight's show.
"Are you going?" Chrissy asked, she was confused why Eddie would ask Chrissy to go, but not Y/N.
"No, I don't feel well so I'm going to sleep, plus he asked for you." Y/N sighed as she walked to her room.
~
Chrissy arrived at the show as Eddie took the stage.
Eddie began to play but his eyes moved around the room. He caught Chrissy's eyes and smiled. But he felt disappointed when he didn't see Y/N anywhere.
When the show ended, Eddie came off the stage sweaty and irritated.
"Where is she?" Eddie asked he was slightly annoyed. Why was Y/N dodging him?
"How did you ask her? Because she thinks you asked for me to be here."
"I asked her and she said yes! Then I didn't want her to feel anxious so I said you could tag along." Eddie explained.
"Eddie! You idiot." Chrissy spazzed, her right hand smacking Eddie's arm.
"What did I do?"
"That wasn't the plan. If you want a date, it needs to be just the two of you. If you add anyone else, it immediately tells the girl it's not a date. Which means you aren't interested." Chrissy explained.
"I'll go talk to her," Eddie said as he raced out of the bar.
~
Eddie knocked on Y/N's bedroom door, his hands in his pockets as he waited.
"Eddie?"
"Can we talk?"
Y/N moved aside and let Eddie walk into her room.
"What did I do wrong? Why do you seem to hate having me around?" Eddie asked
"I don't Eddie," Y/N sighed, "I like having you around, it's just complicated." She sat on her bed and looked down at her nails.
"Then explain it," Eddie said, sitting next to her.
"I sorta have feelings for you and knowing you and Chrissy like each other is really hard for me," Y/N said, she looked at Eddie and back to her nails.
"Woah, Chrissy and I do not like each other." Eddie laughed.
"It's not funny," Y/N snapped, and Eddie stooped laughing.
"You're right. It's not funny. But Chrissy and I do not like each other, I swear." Eddie explained. "I like you and Chrissy has been trying to help me."
"Why would you need help?" Y/N asked, her heart racing at his confession.
"I had no idea how to even talk to you. You make me nervous, my tongue goes numb, my heart beats out of my chest, and I wanted to ask you out but I knew I couldn't do it alone."
Y/N felt herself smiling, that was the cutest thing she had ever heard. She couldn't believe she made him nervous. She couldn't believe he liked her back.
"I believe you can do it on your own, try it," Y/N said, she turned her body to face his and laced their hands together.
"Right now?" Eddie choked out
She nodded and squeezed his hand with a smile on her face.
"Can I take you on a date? Tomorrow night at the hideout, just us." Eddie asked, he nervously squeezed her hand back.
"You absolutely can." Y/N laughed
"Fuck yeah," Eddie cheered to himself
"Fuck yeah," Y/N laughed.
Seems like Y/N owed Chrissy an apology. But right now, her focus was on Eddie.
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incendiobrock · 27 days
Text
Drunk Confessions {Chris Sturniolo}
Summary: Chris, Nick, and fem!reader attend the Tara Yummy party and some drunken confessions are made later on in the night.
A/N: I kinda hate how I wrote this but my account is seriously lacking Chris content so hopefully you will enjoy anyways lmao, if it's not too shitty lmk if you might want a part 2
Warnings: drinking, mentions of throwing up, super sweet, fluffy chris 🥹
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“Alright, you guys have fun!” Matt said as he dropped you Nick, and Chris off at the front of the building. You could hear the music blasting through the walls as people celebrated Tara. Matt wasn’t really feeling up to going to a party which worked perfectly in your favor knowing you had a reliable DD to pick you up later in the night. Chris and Nick wouldn’t drink either but you would never trust them to safely operate a vehicle so Matt was the best choice for the job.
Nick walked ahead of you as Chris stayed by your side, his right hand lightly touching your lower back as he guided you both inside. You all had smiles etched onto your face as you entered the upbeat atmosphere filled with some of your influencer friends. Tara immediately saw you guys and pulled you into a hug, “Thank you so much for coming!” She shouted over the music.
“We wouldn’t miss it!” You replied, congratulating her on hitting a million subscribers. Your eyes scanned the room noticing the bar, officially deciding that would be your next stop. Chris’s hand never left your lower back as he and Nick continued to talk to Tara. “I’ll be right back,” You said into Chris’s ear, departing the group.
The bar was filled with people trying to order different drinks. A special menu placed in the center with some specific drinks for Tara. You ordered a vodka cran and even got roped into taking a shot with some others that were at the bar. Without your knowledge, Chris kept a close eye on you from across the room. He loved seeing you have fun, especially knowing that you had been stressed with other things the past few weeks.
You needed to let loose and have a little fun, he thought. The liquor burned going down your throat as you took your shot, using a lime wedge as your chaser. Before you knew it, you were a few drinks in, and maybe a couple shots.
You felt like you were floating through the crowd as you made your way back to your friends. You wrapped an arms around both Chris and Nick’s shoulders, standing in between the two. “Heyyyy,” You slurred slightly.
“Where have you been?” Nick chuckled, trying to keep you supported as you swayed slightly into his side. “Yeah, you’ve been all over the place tonight. I saw you over at the bar and then over by the-“ Chris began before you cut him off.
“I wanna dance! Can we please danceee?” You begged, dragging out the end of your sentence. “You guys got this,” Nick said, passing you off to Chris. “Good luck kid.”
You looked up at Chris with big puppy dog eyes, silently restating your request to dance. “Of course, let’s go dance.” He said, placing his hand out for you to take hold of. His fingers interlocked with yours as he pulled you to the crowd of other people dancing. One of your favorite hype songs came on and you felt like you were on top of the world. You were facing Chris with a hand placed on each of his shoulders while his held your waist. You were both jumping around and singing the lyrics to one another. You couldn’t help but admire him as the flashing lights illuminated his face. Maybe it was the alcohol running through your veins but you wanted nothing more than to pull him in for a kiss.
After dancing for a few more songs Chris leaned down to your ear and yelling over the music, “You ready to go? Matt is here to pick us up!” A soft smile played on your face as you nodded, head still spinning from the drinks.
Chris had to practically lift you into your seat as your body stumbled to step up into the vehicle. “Okay- Okay sit still let me buckle you in.” Chris laughed, watching as you immediately started to fill Matt in on the night. The seatbelt buckle latched into place and Chris went to shut your door and hop into the passenger seat. “Chris-“ Your voice comes out in a whine, he glances behind his shoulder looking at you worried. “Are you gonna be sick?”
You shook your head ‘no’, staring into his eyes as he searched your face trying to figure out what was wrong. “Can you sit with me?” Nick agrees and switches seats with his brother, taking over the passenger seat. Chris’s fingers found your hair as he playfully brushed his fingers through it. The drive home was about twenty minutes and you didn’t know if you would make it. Nausea settled in your stomach as the alcohol mixed with the moving car. You ended up rolling down the window to get some fresh, cool air.
As soon as Matt pulled into the garage you were lunging out your door and inside the house. You ran to Chris’s bathroom, not having enough time to shut the door before you were over the toilet bowl. This wasn’t how you were planning on ending the night. Embarrassment started to settle in when you heard footsteps entering the bathroom. “Go awayyy,” you couldn’t lift your head up but you knew who stood in the doorway. The presence was by your side that very next second, “I’m not leaving.” His voice was barely above a whisper, trying to be gentle with you knowing you weren’t feeling well.
“Chris please, this is so embarrassing. I’m okay, I promise.”
“I know you are kid. I brought you some water, do you need anything else?”
“Maybe a shower.” You grumble.
Chris stood up and turned on the hot water for you, letting it heat up before you got in. Delicately, he helped you get out of the outfit you had on as you faced away from him, not wanting to expose yourself. His hand on your bare back as he helped get you into the shower.
Chris stayed right outside the shower, scrolling on his phone but making sure he was readily available if you needed anything. After the shower, you were being dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers.
Your body collided with his mattress as you pulled the covers over your body. Chris got in bed beside you, laying flat on his back and keeping a healthy distance between you two. “Can we please cuddle?” You whisper. Without any hesitation he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your torso.
“Thank you, Chris.”
“Don’t mention it kid. It’s no problem.”
Kid. That stupid nickname fell out of his mouth again for the second time tonight. It definitely didn’t feel very nice to hear him say it. You might regret this tomorrow but you were still feeling brave right now.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Yeah, what’s up.” He asked, looking down at your face as it continued to rest on his chest.
“I love you.”
A chuckle escaped past his lips, “I love you too-“
“No Chris. Like, I love you… I have for so long.” You watched as he tried to process the new information, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.
“I was scared to tell you because you’re like my best friend and I didn’t want to ruin that but, it’s true. I love you so much.” You finished your little spiel.
“I feel the same way about you, but please let’s talk about this tomorrow. I want you to be able to remember this.” He was so gentle with you, he always was. You had such a special spot that he held in his heart for you. You were sad that he didn’t want to talk about this right now but you knew he was probably right, he normally was. You wanted to remember this conversation and you weren’t certain that you would remember anything when you woke up the next morning.
“Go to sleepy pretty girl, I will talk to you about this in the morning. I want to be able to kiss you when you’re in the right state of mind.” His lips pressed a soft kiss on your cheek, lulling you to sleep.
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